Stop burning bridges and drive off of them
It’s been a few days now.
Days wrapped up in little silver packages, mass produced on factory conveyor belts.
Hasn’t made much of a difference.
Trembling bodies go about.
Bright lights for stands.
Not to make it so.
Cause it’s for everyone.
But it’s somewhat personal.
Sometimes it’s better than a photograph.
And now it’s gone.
And it meant.
Accidental swallows.
This isn’t going to be fun.
Somewhere between.
An upper and a downer.
Now everything’s so fucking hilarious.
The best friend with it’s extensions.
Hobbits and their problems which only add to the apathy.
The strangers with their inquisitions.
The blackholes who are trying to pass themselves off.
The people who aren’t, are just getting peeved.
Everything else that’s going that way.
And your televised life.
With all of it’s characters, full of hate.
Every play has got it’s villains.
And recurrence is the fad.
No more hide and seek to play.
This is the surrounding part.
Double dosage, please?
Let it be so.
Let it be
so very funny.
So life’s a little more underwhelming.
And you still make no exception for excepting.
How very comical of PostSecret.
-I know there’s a big world out there like the one I saw on the screen.-
Oh baby, when they made me, they broke the mold
Tricks
A hue between pink and red.
For only a half.
Senseless within the senses.
And into the hatchet.
Tongues speed up and slow down.
Suppression of everything about it.
Floating heads go around.
To the moon and back.
Mispronouncing monologue,
Attempts at humour,
Regrets at attempts of humour with you,
Head goes in, chest goes empty.
In it’s officialism,
Pieces of happiness,
Or lack of other things.
15 hour sleep cycle.
“Never the same person when I go to sleep as when I wake up,”
A line in a song,
A character in a book,
And you’re still as ignorant as it comes with bliss.
The down of it hurts,
Hurts by two fold.
Spend the rest of it with enemy stranger.
This is it.
You should never leave me home alone, heaven knows where I might wanna go
The green transpires from the blue.
Hello awkward situation, goodbye bubble of security.
Oh darling,
y’know what they say about lips and ships.
Only an envy of ‘The Bicentennial Man’.
And seeing things as how it is,
It’s something that’s going to be part of your apathy.
2 months and a week.
“It’ll go away.”
Well, all that can be said is,
“Don’t let the doctor in, I wanna blow off steam.”
Tired from it.
And fatigued from the lying in your beds.
The ones for me and the ones for yourself.
And just like it, you can’t.
And like it, you didn’t have to lie.
I’m in love with my own sins
Play where’s Waldo at 3 minutes 24 seconds.
Between your smiles and regrets
Run through the midnight Asian air.
Feel the black out of it.
Till vision grows out of sight.
Watch the moon and hear it in your ears.
As the people walk all around you.
Creep out as senses return and hypocritical epiphanies.
Descend to a place of bottles and blades.
Realize Mr. MoonLight has followed along.
Lie upon the lies.
Ponder upon the subject.
As it’s inside of you,
Beside you,
And you’re just bouncing up and down.
Empty body and soul.
Feel organs churn and shrivel up.
Feel organs playing music made for mortuaries.
Buzz from the events.
Ask for seconds.
Humanoid but not human.
Tragedy greens with jealousy.
Feel it go.
Feel everything go except the feeling.
Waiting for the compromise.
Distractions by death,
Heads like rocking boats,
Tripping out on views all too disturbing,
And this incessant itching on places to tie ribbons.
Holding out, just like you did.
-It must be so hard for you to deny it and hide it. -
