(no subject)
OK before i scare the hell out of you i was writing this next one trying to think through someone else's perspective.... im not a freak.....this was written long ago before i ever read ayn rand...that was fort the record
Innocence
I lie now, in wait,
My soul to be balanced
By the weight of a feather
Waiting to fall my
6 feet, forty fathoms
Numbers categorize nothing to me
In the glory of my hecatomb
I took the gorgeous
In sacrifice of myself
My ego defined by survival of self
Only now as the life trickles off my wrists
Can I reflect on my martyrdom
With god between my fingertips
I thumb through verse after verse
And in the beginning there was
She was gorgeous,
Ethereal,
With the implication of an angel
The scent fluorescent,
A glow of pure vibration
Between the delicate curves
Refined with the gloss of salvation
I spoke using the allocution of adolph
Perhaps that was a poor choice of orator,
adolph orphaned as an artist
In the fragile snow globe
Of a world controlled ,
I digress,
My words echoed the anxiety of my solitude
My words echoed in the emptiness of the room
Her vibration grew and I found myself fixated
Not on her words themselves,
But on the tone,
One as if she slid my finger around crystal
And cut it on the edge
I left in the eclipse of my passion
Drowned out by the presence of the
Dashing romantic at her feet,
I ventured to the curb my inevitable palisade
sometimes I lose track,
maybe as hour had passed
she stumbled out tipsy
like a smoldering angel
after being cast from heaven
her grace deformed by the malignant smell of burning flesh,
or perhaps my burning desire
the streets were empty on my travel through purgatory
her skin felt like silk,
no dare say i with the rancid lumps in stale milk
her eyes glistened with tears,
tears that smeared her perfection,
like Jackson Pollock on her mask,
the steel felt warm against her life
and as we retreated to the darkness
she lost her emotion as I slid deep inside
shattering her existence,
lust, devotion, promise of something better,
and I went numb,
power swelled my veins, I wept tears of blood
I watched her eyes
Even through her plastic casket
Even as she sank forty fathoms underneath
Her eyes still gazing upon me
Innocence
I lie now, in wait,
My soul to be balanced
By the weight of a feather
Waiting to fall my
6 feet, forty fathoms
Numbers categorize nothing to me
In the glory of my hecatomb
I took the gorgeous
In sacrifice of myself
My ego defined by survival of self
Only now as the life trickles off my wrists
Can I reflect on my martyrdom
With god between my fingertips
I thumb through verse after verse
And in the beginning there was
She was gorgeous,
Ethereal,
With the implication of an angel
The scent fluorescent,
A glow of pure vibration
Between the delicate curves
Refined with the gloss of salvation
I spoke using the allocution of adolph
Perhaps that was a poor choice of orator,
adolph orphaned as an artist
In the fragile snow globe
Of a world controlled ,
I digress,
My words echoed the anxiety of my solitude
My words echoed in the emptiness of the room
Her vibration grew and I found myself fixated
Not on her words themselves,
But on the tone,
One as if she slid my finger around crystal
And cut it on the edge
I left in the eclipse of my passion
Drowned out by the presence of the
Dashing romantic at her feet,
I ventured to the curb my inevitable palisade
sometimes I lose track,
maybe as hour had passed
she stumbled out tipsy
like a smoldering angel
after being cast from heaven
her grace deformed by the malignant smell of burning flesh,
or perhaps my burning desire
the streets were empty on my travel through purgatory
her skin felt like silk,
no dare say i with the rancid lumps in stale milk
her eyes glistened with tears,
tears that smeared her perfection,
like Jackson Pollock on her mask,
the steel felt warm against her life
and as we retreated to the darkness
she lost her emotion as I slid deep inside
shattering her existence,
lust, devotion, promise of something better,
and I went numb,
power swelled my veins, I wept tears of blood
I watched her eyes
Even through her plastic casket
Even as she sank forty fathoms underneath
Her eyes still gazing upon me