Sunday, January 22, 2012

Today in History

Good evening, world. Had some down time today, so I went about fixing up an old piece I've had sitting in a desk drawer for a year or two now. Only parts of it have seen the light of day until now, but considering my readership it shouldn't really make too much of a difference. Dig it.


Untitled


Lost in my head, I feel so dead
I paint my mind a vibrant red
There are no signs to guide my way
So I come back here every day

I wave hello and kiss goodbye
But most of me still wonders why
The clouds still move, the grass still grows
I ask around but no one knows

Directionless, misunderstood
I failed just like you said I would
I just can't shake the shame I wear
Sometimes it's more than I can bear

The stars burn out without a sound
A backdrop for a burial ground
I wonder, when I see the rain
If that's how Heaven shows its pain

There's nothing quite within my reach
I'm just one grain upon the beach
I'm trapped somewhere that makes no sense
I can't find any evidence

I've come to learn I'd been deceived
By everything I once believed
The open hand became a fist
The rainbow faded into mist

I'm looking for a land that I'd once seen
Advertised on the cover of a magazine
A savage garden where I'd go
To hide from all this silent snow

Now all I know is I can't stay
I've got to somehow steal away
The birds and fish and hills and trees
All protest what the blind man sees

The darkest dark, the blackest blue
I made these plans, they went askew
Emotionless and full of rage
I kill myself with every page

You lied to me, you said you heard
The truth I hid between these words
I know it's there, but I don't care
Enough to try to point out where

The whole world's useless anyway
I really don't know why I stay
It's something in the way she talks
A funeral march dressed like a walk

Agreed, it's quite a good disguise
Two empty holes that look like eyes
A kind of down that feels like up
A cure inside a paper cup

This map was drawn out upside-down
Turns out you can't escape this town
There's something here that feeds on death
It inhales every exhaled breath

A leech that sucks up broken dreams
Then slithers back into the seams
Struck down by the hand that feeds
Expecting life to meet my needs

I'm thinking no but saying yes
I'm counting on a lucky guess
The same old thing for twenty years
Laughter followed up by tears

Ascension followed by collapse
Recovery and then relapse
I think if I can't break this chain
I'm surely bound to go insane

I've already lost so much
I'd break just from the slightest touch
Outside's in and inside's out
Reality diffused my doubt

Laugh to show me I'm alive
Convince me not to take this dive
I found out from a previous dare
There's nothing else but rocks down there

They'll fuck you up but let you live
They'll take what you don't have to give
So what if you're still in one piece?
The crossfire still has yet to cease.



Until next time, world...enjoy.

Thursday, January 19, 2012

You Can't Fight Fate

Good evening, world. This isn't really any good.

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We all looked like crippled monsters. Our eyes showed the clouds, our tears showed the rain.

There was something in the air during those cold winter months that told us things were going great, even if everything at that given moment went to shit. It was so easy to slide backwards into that idealistic muck; our thoughts were few and our heads were full of fake love, drugs, and peace of mind. Change took place at an amazingly ridiculous pace, and we could barely stumble along fast enough to keep up.

We would screw each other over for nothing, though, despite the feel-good toxins permeating the very air we breathed. Our only real friend was the guy with the next light, the next good Samaritan who would feed us pills or give us a ride to where we needed to get. We talked about loyalty like it meant a damned thing, and we knew it didn't. Lying to your closest friends with a handshake and a smile was the order of the day.

Looking back, I really think the only truth to be found in all of that terrible madness was this: we were alone. We always were; our kind came into this world alone and I know now in a way that is both terribly final and terribly true that we will remain so until the drawing of our last breaths. A man's character is his fate. You can't fight fate.