Monday, November 2, 2015

Occupied

Trailed by
purpose
Prosaic tones;
we slipped away,
late in the night
We passed
all those
thoughts that you stole,
described to me like
they were your own
I know I will
not ask too much;
just keep me occupied

Machines,
tired and cold,
abandon their posts,
hiding out as we approached

We walked
until
skies opened up
Screamed at a flawless
Sun while we slept
I'll tell you I
will not look so
bored when you talk in your sleep

Planes crash
Houses explode
The cars on the road swerve,
and end up straight through our backs

Slowly,
we both awoke,
exhaling smoke
Brushed off the dust,
then we moved on

Strangers
threw their
distant and dark
sinister stares,
but they just bounced off
Reason
caught us
and grabbed our throats,
dragged us around, repeating this note:
I made this up
You ask too much
Now you're preoccupied

Monday,
we stabbed a hole,
dark and alone;
mesmerized by graffiti tagged on the wall
Tuesday,
when all was calm,
we submerged our arms
and encased them in pillars of glass



Wednesday, October 28, 2015

I don't know

The same cycles.  The same circuit.  The same feeling of sameness.

Something drastic is coming.

Tuesday, October 27, 2015

Ataraxia

Froze asleep
Coma deep
I dream I'm out with you
Alone at sea

And you watched the waves
And you sang to me
As we sink
I dream I'm out with you

Trapped beneath
Kept below the sea
This dream I had with you
Alone at sea

And we watched the waves
You sing to me
As we sink
This dream I had with you

Alone at sea

Friday, September 4, 2015

No really, everything's fine

The reason we're all disfigured
I will say it again
The reason we're all disappointed
with innocence lost
You're alone
You can feel the resentment
burning a pathway
straight to your heart
I say, kingdom come

Maybe your life is wonderful
I wish you well
Please understand I won't change you,
so grant me the same
I know this:
There's a plain white horizon
I want it so badly
It seems after all
that your will be done

And it's done
Reaching out
And it's done

We are all defenseless now
On your own, you left somehow
with these broken bones
These broken bones
But I am one with these chains
Come around and I regain
with my broken bones
My broken bones

The reason we're all disfigured
I will say it again
The reason we're all disappointed
with innocence lost
You're alone
You can feel the resentment
burning a pathway
straight to your heart
I say, kingdom come

Tuesday, September 1, 2015

32

Life is stale.  Words are empty.  Ritual is disconnecting. Reaching is straining.  Pulling back is frightening.  Time is threatening.  There's me, and then there's a barrier; then, there's you.  Life is perpetual aphelion and thematic loneliness.  Words, really, are empty.

Monday, August 17, 2015

Cries on the Wind

Reaching out,
How things look different
on the way down
Disillusioned,
I've lost desire
Will I burn
in the unforgiving fire?

From the flames
I walk away
I've found a way
to erase the pain
An empty bottle,
my receptacle
A guardian angel
called escape

Don't dwell
on the forthcoming,
'cause I know
it won't be happening
You know
when I'm gone,
you'll hear my cries
on the wind...

Wednesday, August 5, 2015

Solo(w)

Inserting all the tools upon the broken talking dog
If bleeding dirty shadows of the drawing on the wall
A funded self of science from disorder and decay
Its chaos makes you crazy and the real is left to say
Its chaos makes you crazy and the real is left to say
Its chaos makes you crazy and the real is left to say
Its chaos makes you crazy and the real is left to say
Its chaos makes you crazy and the real is left to say
Its chaos makes you crazy and the real is left to say

Sustained weeping his leaves
The summing of trees
The simplest thing
Living in solo
Living is so low

Burn(ing)

I don't sleep much.  Not because I am too busy, but because I just don't really want to.  I'm exhausted all day, I get home, and could go straight to bed.  But I stay up, thinking.

I keep doing the same things, over and over.  I keep losing people by pushing them away, or having them drift further and further.  I'm always scared to cut ties, because I don't want to sink back into myself.  I try not to let myself get too dark.  But I've reached a turning point, or a tipping point, or a point of no return.

Whether I like it or not, it's what I have to do.  I have to go under.

I think about other people too much.  I worry and miss them and put all I have into comforting them and giving them a point of positivity to draw from.  I give my life too often.  I can't allow myself feelings anymore.  I have to go under.

Monday, August 3, 2015

I wait up, in the dark, for you to speak to me; I'm opened up; release me...

In another life, a long time ago, I did things that ruined my soul.  When I was falling, I met someone that helped me grab on, and even though I still hit the bottom hard, it was a treasure to me.

When I thought I was having a heart attack from too much coke, driving down the highway in the middle of the night, it was you I prayed to, to get me home alright, because I didn't want to leave.  Every time I wanted to die, there was someone that held me back.  Every time we hated each other, there was part of me that could feel you still inside me, waiting for an opportunity to come back.  Even when it took years.

When I was alone for months, in my room, draining and dying and losing my mind, I could talk to you.  I could just lie there, even in the silence, and feel connected to you.  I could feel it.  Talking about the trolleys that went up the side of the mountain, and driving in the ice... I remember when I wondered when those flowers would get there, finally.  You ripped my heart out more than once.  I hurt you as well.  But there was something that I was always left wanting.  I remember all the nights, of reaching out, and feeling like someone was reaching back to me.  And I remember all the fucked up nights of pain and severing.  Out by the lake, wondering whether you'd survive, promising to be there for you as soon as humanly possible. All of the fucked up times, and all of the beautiful ones.  I probably ruined it permanently.

And now, I get the feeling that it's being lost for good, slowly atrophying, or on the cusp of erasure, and I really don't know how to handle it.  I feel childish, waiting and hoping and just fucking waiting.  I feel selfish because I should be worried more about everything else than this feeling.  But, throughout my life, it's the only feeling that meant something real to me.  And, now that I'm not constantly speeding forward in a rudderless torrent, I feel like I have the means to make things right.  But there's never the chance to.  It's a microcosm of my entire life.  I'm always too late, after I've fucked everything up.  I'm still the ghost, walking through a  play.  Watching my mistakes and their aftermath.

And yet, I know that I would do everything again if I could just have one more of those peaceful moments with you.  I would let myself be ripped apart forever, and it would be worth it.

If I'm crazy, projecting things that aren't real and clinging on to something just for the sake of it, believing something's there that isn't, then I need real confirmation.  I keep endlessly pouring myself into this, and filling who I think you are with all these things in my brain.  I'm starting to wonder if it's real anymore.  The last time I felt this way, I watched someone die.

I don't try to make everything about myself, but I always sound narcissistic...

I just feel these things, and I believe in them, and I'm waiting for the day when I realize that they're not real.  And I fall into myself, and realize I'm alone, and start collapsing.  I don't want illusions, I want the truth, even if it's horrible.  It's not about romance, or possession, or love.  I need us to be in each other's lives in any form.  I want to help you,  and it's selfish of me to want and need all these things, but I can't live with the agony of never saying them.

There's no one that has ever made me feel the way that you do.  And it's because of who you are.  There's nothing brighter in this life.  There's nothing like it.  You're worth so much.  Even if I make things worse, or make you feel even more blank.  I have to say this.  No one in life is as important as you are.  You will be alive.  I promise.

Saturday, July 18, 2015

Am I alone in here?

I can't stop your sadness.  I can't even stop my own.

I can barely hold my life together.  I can barely hold my mind together.  I can barely function.  I can barely pretend to be okay.  It never ends up mattering what I do.  My roads lead to the same place.  The same night.  The same feeling of churning, waiting to be okay, watching things get worse.  And I do what I think I should, no matter how hard it is, or how much it hurts.  I do what I think is best.  I leave the world behind, because I want something to come home to someday.  I don't think it'll ever be there.  I can barely delude myself to move forward.  I tried for a long time to put it all down, and pretend.  Years.  There's not just one thing.

I let my ears settle, and I forgot how to listen to white noise, and I remembered the screaming of my demons that has always been there, has always been getting slightly louder every day.  I'm waking up to the nightmare.  I hope you'll be alright in your own.

Wednesday, July 15, 2015

Sta(i)ring

I realized that I had been basically sitting here for the past two days, barely eating and chain-smoking.  When I get into that mode and lose track of time, I feel like I'm completely isolated from the outside world.  And then, when I have to go out and get food and gas, all the anxiety hits me, and I feel like I'm a crazy person trying to function in society.

Maybe that's why I get so clingy.  I force all that anxiety into forward motion when I'm isolated, and keep pushing and pushing, for some kind of reward.

The feelings I have are both elating and frightening.  I always feel like i'm fucking my entire life up by being incompetent and unreliable.  And when I do get things together, I gain momentum until I crash again.

I feel like I'm too old to have these kinds of stability issues.  But I do, and probably always will feel like I'm desperately clinging on to my sanity.  Maybe I'm doomed to the cycle of reaching out and grasping at nothing, and retracting.

I like the feeling of pouring my emotions into something willing; maybe I'm narcissistic.  A part of me will always force myself to believe that there are true forms of love out there, waiting for me to find them.

Maybe there's something in you that pulls me, or an empty space that's sucking me in.  Or maybe I'm being pushing toward you by my own vacuum.  And even though I have the patience to wait and see, I have to fight against that impulse to propel myself forward.

Wednesday, July 8, 2015

Achieving the Unavoidable

Scream through blind eyes
I cannot see the truth
because reality
is just my own view
My point of no return
Leave, leave these useless shapes

Find life in distortion

Monday, May 18, 2015

I tried to save you, I used
water to keep you alive, and
cotton wool to keep you warm, and
tears to feed you inside, so
spread the word
All feeling is empty,
so just follow the herd
In dreams are all we'll be,
so spread the word

Tuesday, March 31, 2015

I Can Se(a)e You

Did you see your people?
They all turned out for you
We were all together
not so long ago...

In the shadows, we can see you
In the wind, we hear your laugh
When the light reclaimed you,
we were left clawing at the sky...

In the ocean, we can find you
For the Sun, we praise your name
In the dirt, we pray for God
To bring you back again
Bring you back again

I can see you
I can see you
In the void, the stones
Are turning
And turning
And turning

I can see you
I can see you...

Saturday, March 7, 2015

Until death's mirror reflects the meaning of life,
wander aimless and mesmerized;
the fear starts to rise

Can you rely on the safety of the system?
Those masochistic messages run deep into your soul,
tearing through years of subconscious defenses
In a split second, the foundations of a peaceful, fulfilling life can be blasted away
to the four corners of reality,
as if it were an act of a truly evil God...

A dreamworld is a very scary place
to be trapped in
A dreamworld is a very scary place
to be trapped inside
all your life
A dream is such a lonely, lonely place
to be trapped inside
all your life