(no subject)
The last laugh is yours.
My hands are covered in sores
and screams from that night.
Potatoes grow now, it's that time of year.
When I listen close enough I can almost hear
their own sounds of love,
their own ways to shove
their own things under their own rug.
I am not alone.
Like so many times before,
I battle not alone,
but apart.
The ones I wish to love,
the ones I never quite will,
The ones I loved too much and
now vacate the other side of the hill.
They never quite understood.
And now you're afraid of me.
Afraid of what?
My wrath that bites so hard?
My mouth that spits and barks?
I am a luny, they might say.
I breathe true fyre, she would say.
But for her, it was cold.
I just wanted to be told
That I am not getting old.
That there are so many things to behold.
So many doors to open,
So many windows to bolt down.
Keep me in before I kill myself,
I'd say.
You shut up and mind yourself,
He would say.
But it's only because I don't know
Where to end, where to begin.
What to leave behind and what to
keep in.
They would tell me to destroy it all.
But I'm still left in the thick of it all
With nothing but a lighter,
A heart filled with coal,
One real desire,
To just go home.
My hands are covered in sores
and screams from that night.
Potatoes grow now, it's that time of year.
When I listen close enough I can almost hear
their own sounds of love,
their own ways to shove
their own things under their own rug.
I am not alone.
Like so many times before,
I battle not alone,
but apart.
The ones I wish to love,
the ones I never quite will,
The ones I loved too much and
now vacate the other side of the hill.
They never quite understood.
And now you're afraid of me.
Afraid of what?
My wrath that bites so hard?
My mouth that spits and barks?
I am a luny, they might say.
I breathe true fyre, she would say.
But for her, it was cold.
I just wanted to be told
That I am not getting old.
That there are so many things to behold.
So many doors to open,
So many windows to bolt down.
Keep me in before I kill myself,
I'd say.
You shut up and mind yourself,
He would say.
But it's only because I don't know
Where to end, where to begin.
What to leave behind and what to
keep in.
They would tell me to destroy it all.
But I'm still left in the thick of it all
With nothing but a lighter,
A heart filled with coal,
One real desire,
To just go home.