crazed
when i think about what i've done, my failings or flaws, thing's i've said and things i haven't, i can't seem to picture it all at once. i try to test my memory against what i think my character is and i come up short. nothing sounds coherent. nothing looks finished.
i simply sit and wonder what it all means.
...
here i sit and simply wonder
what it's like to be alone
and yet surrounded
by all my sins and most my lovers
and the advances i discovered
lingering in memory, thinking of those times
that once might have meant something eternal
distorted by time and distance
so now i search for silver rings
the last ditch effort of ghostly things
and you,
your hair so long and lovely
that i scarcely think you are aware
nothing you say strikes so other-worldly
as apple orchards yet to bare
their rotten fruit lie unattended
like many promises i rendered
but i haven't forgotten
what you said and why you feared
those utterances i held back
mostly vain advances, dear.
but still i love you, though you don't care
and i'm a coward blind with fear.
it ends in those stray dances
to my broken moonlit wares
and the broker who lent me laughter,
unsympathetic to my midnight scares,
asks me what i'm doing here
wonders why i persevere
and the shame of what i've seen is clear
i blame myself but without tears.
and this secret burden is what i bare.
...
glowing with filth. entrenched in the mud. the dirt. i don't feel sorry for what i've done. those happy greeting faces can't touch what i've become. i throw myself at the mercy of the divine. he see's right through me if he even sees at all. i trade what is left of my shame for what is left my pride. nothing in the world seems solid. i take myself to task. i tell myself not to laugh at art. i ask my speech to be calm. i don't tell her what's bothering me.
i only imagine her, in less and less and less...
i trade her rejection for my own acceptance. nothing about what i said is real. i can't even read it back. i can't even justify my vices. what is done is done. forever and ever amen.
...
the river turned green as we talked. i asked you simply what was wrong. you responded in tears. he say's that you're not right for him, but who is right for who? i don't know what i should do. i try to cheer you up. nothing of any significance comes out. you try to loose yourself in pleasure and decadence. i hate you for it.
i enrage myself, even.
less than nothing is the cure. more is less and less is more.
...
i carry a flame that i wish would burn out. everything about it makes me sick. i would rather destroy myself than acknowledge it exists. forget what i am, or what you expect. just ignore me. ignore me the best you can and hold back the hands you wish you could lay.
fuck this. fuck this stupid shit.
...
dire with madness,
approached with faith,
god absolves us while i wait
for less and less to set us straight.
...
..
.
i simply sit and wonder what it all means.
...
here i sit and simply wonder
what it's like to be alone
and yet surrounded
by all my sins and most my lovers
and the advances i discovered
lingering in memory, thinking of those times
that once might have meant something eternal
distorted by time and distance
so now i search for silver rings
the last ditch effort of ghostly things
and you,
your hair so long and lovely
that i scarcely think you are aware
nothing you say strikes so other-worldly
as apple orchards yet to bare
their rotten fruit lie unattended
like many promises i rendered
but i haven't forgotten
what you said and why you feared
those utterances i held back
mostly vain advances, dear.
but still i love you, though you don't care
and i'm a coward blind with fear.
it ends in those stray dances
to my broken moonlit wares
and the broker who lent me laughter,
unsympathetic to my midnight scares,
asks me what i'm doing here
wonders why i persevere
and the shame of what i've seen is clear
i blame myself but without tears.
and this secret burden is what i bare.
...
glowing with filth. entrenched in the mud. the dirt. i don't feel sorry for what i've done. those happy greeting faces can't touch what i've become. i throw myself at the mercy of the divine. he see's right through me if he even sees at all. i trade what is left of my shame for what is left my pride. nothing in the world seems solid. i take myself to task. i tell myself not to laugh at art. i ask my speech to be calm. i don't tell her what's bothering me.
i only imagine her, in less and less and less...
i trade her rejection for my own acceptance. nothing about what i said is real. i can't even read it back. i can't even justify my vices. what is done is done. forever and ever amen.
...
the river turned green as we talked. i asked you simply what was wrong. you responded in tears. he say's that you're not right for him, but who is right for who? i don't know what i should do. i try to cheer you up. nothing of any significance comes out. you try to loose yourself in pleasure and decadence. i hate you for it.
i enrage myself, even.
less than nothing is the cure. more is less and less is more.
...
i carry a flame that i wish would burn out. everything about it makes me sick. i would rather destroy myself than acknowledge it exists. forget what i am, or what you expect. just ignore me. ignore me the best you can and hold back the hands you wish you could lay.
fuck this. fuck this stupid shit.
...
dire with madness,
approached with faith,
god absolves us while i wait
for less and less to set us straight.
...
..
.