Ritual Killing of my Child SibRitual killing of my child sibling
He charged me like a one-ton bull,
deranged, afraid, eager.
But instead of waving a red gold embroidered capote,
I held a weed-whacker in my dream,
blades whirling full speed.
It was difficult at first to stay still
while metal ground on flesh, then bone,
his blood spurting out covering
my face in warmth as I stood unblinking,
but grew easier until all that was left to cut
For a moment all was still -
the smell of rusted metal fresh
with blood clung to the air,
the sound of gnashing steel and breaking bone
drummed in my ear, and
breath froze in my mouth.
The tool felt weightless in my hands
and effortless to control,
as if this act had been the estocada, death blow,
releasing my tension,
allowing me to slacken my white knuckled grip
on the hilt of my weapon.
Little brother's face was contorted in pain but also
in relief as though he simultaneously feared and craved
this end, as if it were his own release
or escape from whatever anxieti
expansionmemories...More Like This
are slightly, (or mightily), built upon as time goes by;
that's what we do with what we did.
whether those recollections have collected
added details along the way,
we often do not know - ourselves.
these things don't make those things less treasured -
no, not less, but more.
tales are told, and in their telling,
(in)advertant lies cause normal swelling.
llp - dec'09 - dA
A moment in timeI do not want to capture the worldMore Like This
In a thick glass snow globe
By crystallising a moment in time
It would distort, it must distort
But so often I am dragged
To that loathsome depth
So often I trap the world
Eyes, brain, fingers, pen
It's unfair, it's so unfair
That I pin it
Sprawled and helpless
Without mercy, I dissect
And it becomes tainted
The whole vast bright world
Reduced to a stuttering rhythm
Anaesthetised with cotton wool
And splinters of ice
Bound to do my bidding,
Tell the story I think it should
I will look back, I must look back
Not with shame but with remorse
At how callously I fouled those worlds
By snaring them in words
Life is for the living
Not for the world
To be road hauled
With shiny string
Behind the lumbering
And her innocent sin
Forgive me for my snapshots
For all the harm they've done
For KevinMore Like This
What dreams may lie under surface of a frozen star?
Once turned supernova evidence comes painfully late .
For the light that we see is but luminance turned memory,
slipped though our hands forever .
© 2007 Alexandra
Funeral of misplaced wantAlas my love its come to pass I've tired of our idle song.More Like This
I euthanize my failing hope give it to naught where it belongs.
Thou love me not, we know this truth. I finally acquiesce to fate.
I thousand lies I told myself to ease the bruise I contemplate.
Dust to dust no divine spark to bring the miracle to life.
Ill begotten travesty I see it now from empty height.
Were your silken words of truth, your actions louder they would speak.
I lay to rest my orphaned heart to walk my freedoms lonely street.
© 2009 Alexandra
the line to read and travelTo live is to travel. To let go of the known in search of one's true home.More Like This
Most of the time I see my home in open spaces, only for a moment or two at a time, but long enough to believe it exists. A glimpse of pale creamy sky punched by a slow sun above the oily waterfront, the moon coming out of the clouds just above the top of mountain in a moment before the scene shifts, the sunset above a thick hunter green forest where you can smell the chill in the air through the window glass. There is always a promise of familiarity and there is always a promise of losing the ambiguity of spaces and distances. The only way to find your home is to lose one.
The language works in the same way.
Before the Greek alphabet there were no vowels. The words were almost mysteries offering only a possibility of a meaning. They were a sacrament for themselves. The meaning was out there. They held the power of transformation, making the alchemy alive in the mind of the reader, calling for taking chances whil
van Gogh, the Orient: A LamentMore Like This
When van Gogh lost his soul
'twas no bushy-eyed barbarian
babbling about bushido
that enthralled him, but
a docile geisha's pallid wrist,
in his whisky
of cherry blossom
in his soul.
when van Gogh lost his mind
to a gunshot,
'twas no starry-eyed samurai
supplicating for seppuku
that pulled the trigger, but
a dying puppy's whimper,
storms of samsara hanging
by a whisker
of dead sunflowers
in his mind.
in this space I knowRecords should be keptMore Like This
of ghastly forms, pixelized
a painting in our digital museum
of everyday life
Paintings and dolls come alive at midnight
ghastly forms come alive when they like
and they die when they like and resurrect
sometimes in illicit tryst with a stranger
who might be a savior or more likely not.
I may not have fallen in love
cause I find rising in love more appealing
but some of us do fall, with no love
and that well of self-pity is deep.
You may not have understood
it's a trial by fire
but wet nevertheless
not because of the rain
I have witnessed fiery angels
climbing up my spinal stairway
many of them fell
and now when the earth is still dry
in the tonal heat of october's end
I see I have failed, too.
Fallen like the shadows
closely tied to ground
I may not deserve anything more
ignored the auspices, ignored the forebodings
erecting pyramids of stern illusions
predicting all facets of ifs and if anys
in vain, as in vein
The Marble and The EdgeAt three, my wide eyes watchedMore Like This
as a marble rolled across the table,
its path illuminated by the light
from the window -
(light still entered that house then)
rolled and eventually lost
its grounding, fell like a misguided Columbus
off the edge, rolled under the radiator,
hot to touch and growling.
Then Christmas and the wrapping paper
strewn about the apartment, blood on the carpet.
I never could remember what happened
between the before and after,
but I remember the dark, frantic motion,
the lullaby siren.
While they methodically separated
shirt from body, bone from flesh,
my hand remained in hers.
We rolled steadily forward, away from the edge,
that precarious edge that my mother fell off of, and my father,
the man she rolled under.
50/50, the professionals say, my prophesy.
DNA-crossed, predisposed to insanity: a father
on the edge of schizophrenia and a great
grandmother who was in constant fear of the rabbits.
(They listened to her every word.)
Oh, and any moment I could st
Amorous TranscendenceYes, yes, I know you will believe me when I sayMore Like This
the dandelions will soon explode
and all the little girls will attack the sun
and, most importantly, that my fingers
will soon become dizzy from running in circles over your skin.
All the experts agree
it is quite possible that every citys
newspaper will scream at the top of its lungs
and decree a war on words,
but thank goodness we dont need those.
Surely it is only time until all the walls disintegrate
and reveal the vacuous voluptuaries,
and us, wide-eyed and bending
to the will of each others desire.
Dont breathe in
the wind carries the noxious scent of sweatshop romance.
Join me in the shelter of our bed,
let the air be filtered sweet with these twisted sheets.
Once the world is arrested by the universe
and charged with Grand Treason,
we will be left as testaments to amorous transcendence.
musings from a dark roomOne thing I've discovered lately is how bright the sky becomes after the sun goes down. It's as if the sun, that fleeting giver of warmth and luminence, isn't shining as much as transplanting itself into a comatose patient. The sky and all beneath her lies open on the operating table of the universe as Sol opens an incision. She lies, patiently waiting, as the gleaming golden surgeon cuts her in two, pushing aside her shimmering insides and coating them with a false veneer of flesh. She remains passive as the golden brilliance of the scalpel envelops her very core, expanding to push aside the glittering amulet of the moon. The famous blue raincoat of dusk and dimness and sweet, quiet solitude lies crumpled in a corner. Eventually the effervescent operator grows weary of his own exsanguinating presence, and the time-keepers scratch off another day. The wound in the sky slowly heals. Silence reigns.More Like This
How Mothers Leave UsDecember dusk in Lawrence; longest night of the yearMore Like This
and lights go on above the blackened road.
Children's shrieks - praises to the sun god -
dwindle, are replaced by the murmur
of engines revving on the highway
just one block over.
My mother is finally dead.
In the deepening blue of night,
I wonder why I am still
there. It has been years, but the smell
of the place old cigarettes and Irish coffee
arrests me. A stucco painting of the Holy
Spirit represented by flames
atop the Disciples' heads looms
on the wall in the foyer.
I remember the sting
of the hardened plastic spatula, the one
with holes in the flat end;
she would say, "Discipline
is the only good thing this spoon does well."
And then I recall, as if it were playing out
in front of me, the strangest memory:
She standing over me, glass
cup with whiskey in her left hand,
ice clinking as her hand shakes,
that same utensil in her other,
the sickly smell of the smoke clinging to my nostrils,
In Our Own Vain ImageThe white picket fence in front of me was probably a little different from what most people dream of. There were slats missing, the remaining boards edged with rot and dulled from exposure to both age and the elements. The wide, gapped smile of a beggar. Weeds spilled through the mouldy cracks like the forgotten shreds of yesterday's lunch between yellowed teeth.More Like This
The garden was an unmanageable mess of weeds and towering long grass, the paving stones hidden from view by the clinging moss that covered every vulnerable surface. There were no paths cut through the overgrown vegetation, a sure sign that both man and animal had left Mother Nature to spread her roots among the reclaimed land.
The once curtained windows, like smashed views into the soul, offered shallow peeks of the interior. The ripped fabric hung from the window like old tears from the corner of a widow's eye. The formidable structure was dilapidated and leaning, the edge of the roof naked of slate tiles and hunched like an
Winter SolsticeWe thought it was the beginning of summerMore Like This
and it was the beginning of the dying of light
The sea was still too cold to swim
and you lacked courage to dive in.
I should have known back then
that the only water you dared look into
was the one which mirrored your own face.
But I could not let go of the beauty
that once inhabited your soul, I loved its trails.
From the other side of the cold blue mountain
I listened to our music of the spheres
as you pretended to hear it, too.
Summer passed and carried with its sands
those who I left along the way, the shells half-buried
rinsed by the sea which did not belong to me.
The sea called out for me, to sea I returned.
And then darkness came, the curtains closed
in squid ink black. The scent of incense killed
the dry scent of herbs on the altars that we
touched, of sticky wine drying on cold stone
of your heart. The forces that played our game
instead of us had no sense of humor, brought
no catharsis, only lunatic's violet ray of joy,
a potion of
writeThe wind picked up all I dropped,More Like This
lifting and throwing each seed
to find them homes where I couldn't,
where I didn't--
I didn't want them to
bury, feel trapped, not as I--
I wanted them
to fly up and far away, like I hadn't.
Like I wouldn't.
They'd find a good place to rest,
not a calculated plot of land,
not where I would shove them in the dirt,
with my fingers measuring how deep
to plant them so they would flourish,
They must be on their own.
Whether we'd meet again--
it didn't matter,
for I would walk down this path,
looking once over my shoulder
at what I left behind
knowing I'd never get them back
and if I did,
we'd both be changed.
I wouldn't look back again,
only straight, only forward,
as I skipped and tripped down
unpredictable roads holding
my pen and paper.
Mother WarShes sitting at the window,More Like This
Shes staring out the door,
Shes pacing, pacing, pacing,
On the rug upon the floor,
And shes waiting, waiting, waiting,
To see her son once more.
Her smiles a cold, grim death mask,
Great holes are her mocking eyes,
Shes rocking, rocking, rocking,
With a face like winter skies,
And shes reading, reading, reading,
His letters filled with lies.
Mama cant you hear me?
Knockin at the door?
Mama cant you hear me?
Bangin on the floor?
Arent you longing, longing, longing,
To see the son that you adore?
I can hear them screaming,
In the trenches, fire rains/reigns,
There are grown men weeping,
Theyre broken and insane,
And Im crawling, crawling, crawling,
Through the mud and through the pain.
My smiles a poor dead rictus,
Nightmares lurch before my eyes,
Im rocking, rocking, rocking,
Beneath frozen, biting skies,
And Im watching, watching, watching,
shoulder to the wheel...perhaps, past a pointMore Like This
the rest is living lost,
our slipping away.
perhaps, the nearer i come
to that point,
avoidance, whatever the cost,
the price i must pay.
perhaps, the ability,
in our centric place,
to admit futility
perhaps, some (or all) is true,
then there is this,
potential of a soul,
evident in your face.
perhaps, for what i see in you,
for all of us,
so much to do...
i must continue.
llp - aug'09 - dA
Now ForeignYoure living in thick-skinned silence,More Like This
and I have used arrowheads and knives
carved from a mothers femur, struck it with flint
and jabbed it with a unicorns horn,
but it remains thick-skinned and
all around you, impenetrably yours
and as your guard dogs growling in slit voices,
your faded brick walls and your moats
that I slide into too easily, that I climb out of
but never to a spot safe for me from you.
My hands are trembling and made out of bulging knuckles
the same color as my face, the reflection of the moon,
they are as white as cauliflower cradled in warm leaves,
greenly gentle and covered in the dirt it came from,
and I am Columbus in the wrong continent,
I no longer know where I am and maybe
I am not supposed to be here, my flag
not quite right and your quiet stillness
is a final warning to those who no longer hold citizenship.
Weapons and OrgasmI taught a few kids how to use a chainsawMore Like This
They repaid me with human skulls
Disappointed to say the least
I expected ancient bark, with waterfalls of nectar
For some twisted reason,
we expose the murderous side when provided with weapons and orgasm
Slower. Slow: her.my chest crushes in on itself. something in there knocks randomly, it hurts, and I forget that I forgot (on purpose) those stupid pills. another reason to go back, maybe. no.no.no.no.no. they wont find any(no)thing wrong. yes, I can read the words on the screen, yes, I can hear the voice on the other end of the [life]line, yes, yes, yes. but none of it adds up, not even close, to the way two souls speak or sing or smother each other. maybe my soul, maybe my breath, my blood my bones/fingers/eyelashes/scent/thirst maybe one of those holds the strange language that can explain this. explain any-all-things.More Like This
//noise bores me now. lights have grown dimmer and colors not as vivid (thinks of synonym)-brilliant. the great ability of synonyms is, that no matter how many times you find a new word, it never reaches that potential that you had in mind. never. and in no time Im disgusted with the idea of everythingforever. I want nothing. I want to rid myself
IndigoShe stepped into the bath, feeling the water part, skimming up her leg as she sank back, watching the steam rise from the surface, tiny droplets swirling in the air, iridescent. She pressed the cold glass to her head, so cold against the hot water covering her, lapping over her shoulders covered by her dark hair. She tossed the cold vodka down her throat, listening to the ice chinking against the glass as the drink burned its way through her. The rhythmic dripping from the leaky tap, which usually irritated her, was surprisingly soothing so she concentrated on it watching the drips falling over her dark violet painted toes.More Like This
Setting the glass down on the floor she let her fingers, the last dry part of her, drift over the water, dipping in and under, disrupting her own reflection. She lifted her arm up watching the drips roll down, one in particular gliding from the tip of her of her middle finger, across her palm and wrist, following her purple veins till it came to rest on the inside c
Aftermath of Castle RockCrestfallenMore Like This
weak as the wake
of the tepid trembling
breaking over the sand.
How hard it is
To Treasure smiles
in a sweaty bath of
or to honour vows
haul prayers from our faded minds.
To turn in such
is to discover a web of feet and hands, disjointed, discombobulated, unable to be grasped
in supplication or remorse
(The household names have gone now).
with half-dead voices
or none at all
unbending under the sky's great agony
unsalted wounds of the spirit
fingers clumsily find fellows
Hold as the soreness stretches.
A Salvage AttemptDrop dead,More Like This
How people are molds
Of the predecessors minds,
With a shotgun strapped
Underneath their desk.
They send out submarines
Unprepared for battle,
Divers without tanks of oxygen,
But, to the chief,
They send back steak,
Not rare enough.
Bloody grease drips off the plate.
With all that is left,
Secret code ends up
On the check.
Classification of what's
Nothing but an old war movie,
A marathon of exhausted avenues.
A Devil's FormFight.More Like This
The men that wound.
The teeth that bite,
The feet that stomp,
The hands that slap
And punch and bruise.
Into a calm innocence.
As if never beckoned,
Buried deep within us all.
Summoned and asked to behave.
Sometimes Love isn't enoughI'd rather bathe in the sewers of hell,More Like This
Than lay next to you in a bed.
And I would rather blow my own brains out ,
Than sit and listen to your stupid voice spit out lies.
I would rather dive into a volcano ,
Then believe one of your promises,
That were broken before spoken.
The room grows cold when you walk in,
Because I dread the fight you deny will come.
And the rain doesn't soothe me anymore,
Because I know I can't run in it.
My shoes are so worn from chasing,
And my sweater can't keep me warm any longer.
I'm on my own,
But somehow bound by your phony love.
As the days grow colder,
I will gain the strength,
To lift up my feet,
And leave you out of this journey.
The Memories Won't Soon Fade..The Memories Won't Soon Fade Away...More Like This
I don't know if it's shock
I imagine you there
Then it's okay
You are okay...
Then it comes crashing down
I'll never see you again.
What happened to you?
I can't imagine the hurt
Thought I've been there...
I always come out okay
The day finally came where too much really was
And you remained silent
Why didn't you call?
To hear a friendly voice again...
I know that,
Though my tears no longer fall
Though I've gone numb
I know I'll always miss you
And from time to time (and probably more)
It really won't be the same....
With you gone
There's so much you'll miss
Around each corner
I'll wish you were there
And each time I'm crying I'l
CaseyHolding on to what you once said to meMore Like This
Holding on to those times we shared
The milkshakes and long walks
Wishing I had said those words...just once
I wish I had told you I loved you
And that you were one of the best friends
I could ever have.
If I could walk and talk with you once again
Under that blue sky
And in the rain
I would tell you just how much you meant to me
I never thought I would lose you
And now that you're gone
I can't grasp the place where you once stood
The place where you told me what I meant to you
The place that you held me when I needed it the most
One of my best friends passed away
And I'm just wishing I had told him all of this.
Messages From the Unborn ChildDon't you worry Mommy,More Like This
I'm right here,
Though you cannot see me,
I hold you dear.
Don't you worry Mommy,
I'm warm and free,
The sky is blue,
And I can hear the sea.
Don't you worry Mommy,
One day you'll hold me tight,
I'll feel your kiss,
And it'll be alright.
Don't you worry Mommy,
I'm waiting for you to come to me,
Here with the angels,
And then you will see.
Don't you worry Mommy,
The day will be soon,
You can find me then,
Up near the moon.
Im FineIt's okay im fine,More Like This
My heart has torn itself into pieces, even smaller than the last time,
Im alone all the time, sitting in this room avoiding everything,
This is my sad sanctuary, where i can feel how i want to feel,
But when i leave, i need to wear this facade,
Everyone has problems except for me,
I am the shoulder for others to cry on,
I am the friend who is always there for you,
Im there for you, not for me,
My feelings aren't important while you have problems,
I just wish you could read between the lines,
Know that 'im fine' dosen't mean 'im fine'
I bottle away this emotion,
One day im going to shake it all up,
Explode it onto you and then you'll know how fucked up inside i am,
I have my good days yeah,
Those days i forget i feel like a shell,
Hell i even smile once or twice,
Luagh at a joke,
Say one or two of my own not to cheer you up,
But because i feel like it,
Then the next day it comes back,
Haunts my restless nights,
But it's okay,
Ill bottle it up and save it
Trapped by PositivityI am trapped by hopeMore Like This
Desire for the happing ending all receive
I am bound to a path I don't even respect anymore
Just to achieve a desire I'm not even sure I want
Love is futile here
Fleeting and inaccurate clearly
Otherwise every person in "love"
Wouldn't wind up hurt or dead inside
And still I've become that which I despise
And someday I may learn
But as all things seem
Today is not that day
Today is not that day
Nor tomorrow or any day soon
I'm trapped and don't think I can run anymore
WelcomeWelcome to my lifeMore Like This
I hope you enjoy your visit
Though you won't stay long
No one ever does
Make sure you visit my heart
A place once full of life
Now blackened by time
Be sure to go see my mind
A demented place
Where the thoughts never stop
And rest is never given
Try to avoid my memory
It's full of nothing but misery and horror
Well I hope your stay is pleasant
For it will most likely be the last time
Welcome To My LifeDon't bore me with excuses,More Like This
Today is not the day,
To play with my emotions,
Or to get it your own way.
Retreating, and hiding,
Deep into my shell,
Welcome to my life,
A happy forever in hell.
Calloses and blisters,
Sown into my heart,
Stitches not desolving,
Words taste awefully tart.
A lonely disposition,
Of a heart-breaking decision,
Now alone for evermore,
A dark corner hogging whore.
My object in life,
Is just to make it through,
I doubt my soul is pure,
As forever shouts, "Yes! Her too!"
Caught in quicksand,
On the dege of a blade,
Struggling to stay alive,
Let alone in peaceful glade.
So welcome to my life,
Watch out or you won't see,
You'll fall into the same hell,
In which my life had trapped me.
Negativ ist PositivGeschaffen aus Hass und Aggression um die Wahrheit zu überbringen dochMore Like This
um wärme und liebe zu bekommen müsste ich ein neues Leben beginnen und diesem hier ein Ende setzen .
Doch dieses kostbare Leben was mein einsigstes ist werde ich niemals beenden ,
ich werde Leben bis mein letzter Atemzug vom Winde in die untiefen der Welt geweht wurde und werde jedem versuchen die Realität an sein Leben zu binden
und ihn vergessen lassen was Lügen sind .
Meine Kälte werde ich wie einen Virus auf meine Zuhörer übertragen und ihnen beweisen das die Welt bersten wird wenn man zu viel empfindet.
HerrschaftDie Macht über etwas zu besitzen ist wahrhaftig eine KostbarkeitMore Like This
und diese Macht ausnutzen zu wollen wäre eigendlich scharmlos
und unverschämt, doch wer Macht hat kann vieles zu seinem Nutze
schaffen und die Welt neu formen .
Ohne sich Gedanken darüber zu machen wie weit man gehen sollte übertrifft man irgendwann seine eigenen Grenzen , doch man lebt sich langsam ein und gewinnt wieder mehr Vertrauen zu sich selbst und spürt welche Kraft man entwickelt hat und man merkt das aus jedem eine Führungspersönlickeit werden kann , doch genau ab dem Moment wo man dies spürt will man es verhindern das andere genau solch eine Macht bekommen oder besitzen und will ihre Völker und Länder in ihre Einzelteile brechen und sie wieder so formen um einen Zweck für sich selbst zu finden und wenn man irgendwann alles besitzt was man haben will , kommt bei jedem der Moment an dem man was unüberlegtes tut und meistens eine Massenzerstörun
Das ErwachenMore Like This
All die Jahre, all die Zeiten die ich hier verweile sind eine pure Verschwendung, ich sollte etwas tun, mich bewegen, frische Luft atmen, doch in dieser Welt ist dies nicht mehr möglich. All die Verräter, die ihre eigene Heimat in Brand stecken und ihr gelächter beim Anblick der Zerstörung.
Das ewige planen von Rachezügen, die unendlichen Reden von Heuchlern, die Falschaussagungen der Menschen die versuchen ihre Ehre durch ihre Lügen wiederherzustellen, doch nach ihnen greifen schon die Krallen der Berstenden.
Ihre einzigste Hoffnung ist die Flucht vor der Realität und ihr armseliges, krankes und unbedeutendes Leben ist nur da um den anderen die Chance auf eine bessere Zukunft zu vernichten.
Die SeeleDeine Seele lenkt dich und bringt dir Freude aber auch TrauerMore Like This
in dein Leben. Die Seele ist eine Einbildung die sich langsam
als wäre sie real in deinen Körper frisst und dich anfängt zu steuern
und du verlierst deine Selbstbeherrschung.
Merke doch, dass du Herr über deinen Körper bist , merke dass du für dich selbst regeln kannst und kein Gewissen brauchst, sondern nur Verstand und Logik.
Oft heisst es, *Meine Seele ist krank*, doch in Wirklichkeit
ist es der, der es behauptet und nach Jahren merken Alle in welchem sinnlosen Leben sie umherwandelten und sich meist das Leben nehmen...doch dies ist der Fehler, den sie alle begehen und damit nur schwäche zeigen.
True LoveI didn't know love until I met you.More Like This
Nothing in my life had ever felt so true.
You were the reason I went day to day,
Washing all of my depression away.
I wish I could make everything all right,
Every second I think of that night.
The way you broke my heart with only few words.
Did more to me than being stabbed by a thousand swords.
I didn't know pain until I met you.
Even know, nothing has ever felt so true.
You used to be the reason I went day to day,
But now your make me wish I could fade away.
Just YesterdayMore Like This
Just yesterday you were holding my hand,
Just yesterday you gave me a wedding band,
Just yesterday you said I do and,
Just yesterday you said you loved me too.
Just yesterday you told me you cared,
Just yesterday you told me about the love we shared,
Just yesterday you said you'd never leave and,
Just yesterday that was all I needed to believe.
Just yesterday you were near,
Just yesterday they told me something I did'nt want to hear,
Just yesterday they buried you deep and,
Just yesterday thoughts of you kept me from sleep.
Just yesterday I finally came to see you,
Just yesterday I missed you more than I usually do and,
Just yesterday I remembered again how much I need you.
Just yesterday has come and gone and,
Just yesterday is just a memory of all that went wrong.
Let Me DieLet me dieMore Like This
Let me die,
It hurts to live,
Let me die,
My soul to give.
I want to die,
Give me rest,
I don't want to try,
Just a bullet in the chest.
Every acrid breath makes sweet death,
Like the gentle touch of a lovers caress.
Let me die,
I beg you please,
Pain and disease
Are only a tease.
Give me a place,
Where I can be free,
Where demons wont chase,
And torture me
The KnowingThe KnowingMore Like This
by jsenn (Joy Senn)
not quite the same
not quite the same as before
before the papered golden ring
before the child from swaddling grew
before the hand of unheard aches
touched us here and here and here
we never knew
I swear to you, we never knew
(we live forever. don't we? nope.)
(does it get better? yup.)
falling leaves . spring renews . summer's sweat
I do digress
now is more
more than before
now we know the knowing
and the power in the word
knowing some mountains won't be climbed
knowing some oceans won't be crossed
knowing the awful wait does end
that patience is not the heavy load
knowing even this
...the rose's scent before the sniff
and this...oh, this, of greater import now
knowing the slightest grin
the unseen move
the imperceptible glint of eye
the elegant, the elegant
there you have it, boiled down
hopes and dreams, love and life
contained by the beginning
smooth assurance, abiding time
VersionYou can't stand meMore Like This
because you don't know who you are
but I know myself.
You have failed, but I have won
everything you ever wanted.
You can't stand me
because I am the bright darkness
the hiding seek-er
the sunny night
You can't stand me-
I am the doubt, the warning, the instinct.
I am the dream you have forgotten
but cannot let go.
I am all the music, everywhere.
You can't stand me
because I talk like you, walk like you-
I look like you, but I am not you.
I am the version of yourself
you didn't have the courage
And you can't stand me
because you can't stand yourself.
ShadesHow can I be happy today?More Like This
How can I enjoy today?
It has been given to me
painted in shades of disappointment
and I cannot see the true colors beneath them.
It is all my fault, and there can be no consolation.
For you, for me, for everyone,
I have failed.
And no matter how many know it or not
the world is less because of it today.
I cannot fix this, I cannot set it right.
Time has wronged me, torn me away
from a few seconds that I desperately need.
What could I have done?
What could I have said?
So many answers to questions
we will never know.
This has happened before, I know
but I cannot remember the steps to take
the thoughts to think
the things to do
in order to bring the sun out again.
I just want to hide in a corner
and wait for the light to appear all on it's own.
Come back to me.
I am more lost than I have ever been
and if there was ever a time I needed you,
it is now.
Missing YouYou're fading in my mindMore Like This
like a picture from a dream
and the longer I try to hold on
the harder I try
to hold on
you slip away.
I now recognize you only
in the turn of a head,
the flick of a hand,
gestures that are you
but always belong to someone else.
I run after them, calling for you,
but the face that turns
the gaze that catches me
"Can I help you?"
Wrong. All wrong.
Wrong puzzled expression.
Wrong uncertain stance.
"Yes" I want to say,
To say so would be a lie
and I can't lie in that moment,
with you so fresh in my mind.
You hated it when
I walk on.
I wait for you.
I listen for you.
I watch for you.
So many times I am mistaken
so many false alarms
so many you's out there
that are not you.
But I have to keep trying.
I have to keep watching
because somehow, I know-
instinctively, I know-
that when I am no longer watching
when I no longer see
I'll lose you.
You'll pass me in the crowd
and I am oblivious
or you'll fade
AbsolutelyThere is no here or there,More Like This
no this or that,
no then or now.
There is no hot or cold,
no black or white,
no life or death.
There is only the grey area,
only a combination of things
that should destroy each other,
A combination of things
that cannot exist in the same space
Because there is no can,
there is no can't.
And when you understand this,
you will be able to understand
that there is no understanding.
There is only this.
There is only now.
This moment is all you have,
and all you will ever be given.
Make it what it needs to be.
The Topsy Turby World we All..The sky began to cryMore Like This
As water fell from
Our eyes in heavy
Droplets of rain.
People in the streets
And smiled in a frown.
It was quite a sight to have
Beheld with your eyes closed.
And the beautifully tragic
Faces of the faceless young men
Made you almost want to weep
In a silent, dry tear fit.
And this is my world that
I would die to live in.
To hear deafly the sounds
Of the crying laughter
That echo from the people I create.
In this brilliantly insane head I navigate.
Color MeColor me pink,More Like This
So I can be that
So deeply in love.
Color me red,
So I can feel
Some anger, some
That is real.
Color me orange,
So I can have that
Bright big smile
Spread across my face
And be happy.
Color me purple,
With a passionate
Look in my eyes,
The look that used to say,
"I want you."
Color me blue,
So i can cry for once,
because my tears
Have been running
So fucking dry.
Color me silver
With a hint of gold
So i can feel important
And on top of the world.
Color me gray
Because that is what
I am, what you make me.
And I would rather be
Than the color gray.
Breaking AwayI'm flying up to the skyMore Like This
And hitting rock bottom
So hard it doesn't even hurt.
With pigs flying all around me
And birds galloping on the ground.
And I'm tired of you thinking
I'm such a beautifully, ugly face.
Feeding me this bull as I spit
Up the shit and wanting to be
Anyone but who I am.
Because I'm not being me when
I'm being you, now am I?
Falling thirty stories up to the
Shortest cliff I have ever seen,
And needing to be anywhere
Than where I am not.
And all of this is so straight
Forward and twisted that I can't
See which way's down.
Realizing everything I have
Ever wanted, is just to break away.
As Hate Does Feed, Love Does..Hate walked into the room, the house of Love,More Like This
Completely ignoring the
Gracious and spacious
Statures littering the floor.
Hate marched right up to Love,
With it's long and flowing
Gowns, so beautiful, it made
A fiery blaze of anger grow in Hate.
Hand raised, ready to strike,
Hate glared it's wild, red eyes
Because Love was simply smiling
It's pleasant little smile, as always.
And Hate seemed overpowered by
This display of absolute forgiveness
That Hate began to weep it's dry
Tears, as it suddenly realized it's own weakness.