for you and you and you take this and run with it
found this deep in my journal and reposting it because holy fuck did i write this? for you, flist, may you get some kind of inspiration or at least a smile.
take this and run with it. run as far as you can until your legs disappear and your lungs breathe fire
i want to take all the suffering of the world in me and cry it all out in the rain. i want to surge underneath my skin until i can stand it no longer and then it will all rush out of me in a mix of salt and clear sweet life. jesus took the suffering and resolved sin. i just want to see the smile on their faces as they realize what living really is and then it would be worth it. i do not want the power of god. i want the power to make you smile.
one two three and she's gone, gone like the wind like a breeze like your breath in summer. she can't escape who she is, and what she does is run and her paths have crossed each other time and time again and she can't keep track and where she's been or who she's seen but she's been there and seen it all, she just can't keep good memory of it. when she leaves it's like a sigh in a chapel like a glance across the room like a flash of deja-vu without warning without a sign and that's how she likes it - if only she wasn't so forgetful.
stuck. stuck and falling. falling and melting into the earth. seeping into the cracks underneath your feet and you cry out for help but your hands cannot grab another's for they are full of grimy gritty dirt. you've tried and tried and tried but you just can't move another inch and you scream and scream and scream to find you've lost your voice. it's become the sound the branches make as the wind scoops them up and rattles them. you can't escape. you're here and you cannot get out and somehow that is the scariest thing of all
your thoughts are lost in the papers scattered on your floor and somehow it's comforting that they're all out of your head
it's just not worth it, all this hate and disappointment and hurt so let it flow out of you like a river like a laugh like air--they are not worth these feelings that make your heart feel as if it will burst inside your chest.
my feelings are painted in the fireworks spreading like yellow spiders scross the night sky
i have watched you and me and him and in our lives we have seen nothing more beautiful than the interactions we share and when i see the people we are and are no longer it makes me smile and the saints cry their agreement
why can they be honored with sleep while i pace constantly upstairs until my eyes shut from exhaustion? why can they not just let me go where i can sleep and sleep well?
muss es sein?
the prayer beads are not wood nor metal but something light and hard and it must be my bones my bones dyed brown and each time i hold them i ask for forgiveness (for i cannot help being human) and as i pour my horror and sorrow into the beads they transform it and holding them i feel hope despite my heavy heart (i will wrap the beads around my heart and dance until i cannot feel anything except the air flowing in and out of my lungs and i will know i am there where i have always been yet have never visited until this moment)
es muss sein.
i was blessed with an eye to see the best; a hand to create what i could; a brain which to imagine; and i twist my words for you, dear, for may they make more sense to you than they ever could to me.
i have been hungering for that fix since i was born and once you have felt it you long to feel it again -- it is in your veins your skin your blood and you wander down alleys and scurry about the streets and you will pay your pretty penny to feel it again because you know once your eyes roll up and your mouth contorts into that feeble smile that god is kissing you on your forehead -- mumbling your thanks when this minute fades you know you must go chasing god for one kiss is never enough never enough
divine, oh my dear, from words what you will, for everyone can find their secret meanings in these sweet nothings and who can pay attention to grammar when the phrases and thoughts spill out of you like water flowing over the edge of the glass?
i have survived and you have survived and it is a hard road but it must be traveled by weary musicians like ourselves for everyone needs a taste of talent
es muss sein.
we are the last cowboys of a dying generation and as it screams we must pull the trigger BAM BAM BAM for no one else will do it but us and they will condemn us and drive us back into the desert where we have lived for years but they will realize that we had to we had to oh god we had to because no one else would
i only wanted to make you laugh because your smile is so precious but you were so lost in your own agony that all i could do was hug you and tell you everything is all right and oh how i wish you would believe me.
take this and run with it. run as far as you can until your legs disappear and your lungs breathe fire
i want to take all the suffering of the world in me and cry it all out in the rain. i want to surge underneath my skin until i can stand it no longer and then it will all rush out of me in a mix of salt and clear sweet life. jesus took the suffering and resolved sin. i just want to see the smile on their faces as they realize what living really is and then it would be worth it. i do not want the power of god. i want the power to make you smile.
one two three and she's gone, gone like the wind like a breeze like your breath in summer. she can't escape who she is, and what she does is run and her paths have crossed each other time and time again and she can't keep track and where she's been or who she's seen but she's been there and seen it all, she just can't keep good memory of it. when she leaves it's like a sigh in a chapel like a glance across the room like a flash of deja-vu without warning without a sign and that's how she likes it - if only she wasn't so forgetful.
stuck. stuck and falling. falling and melting into the earth. seeping into the cracks underneath your feet and you cry out for help but your hands cannot grab another's for they are full of grimy gritty dirt. you've tried and tried and tried but you just can't move another inch and you scream and scream and scream to find you've lost your voice. it's become the sound the branches make as the wind scoops them up and rattles them. you can't escape. you're here and you cannot get out and somehow that is the scariest thing of all
your thoughts are lost in the papers scattered on your floor and somehow it's comforting that they're all out of your head
it's just not worth it, all this hate and disappointment and hurt so let it flow out of you like a river like a laugh like air--they are not worth these feelings that make your heart feel as if it will burst inside your chest.
my feelings are painted in the fireworks spreading like yellow spiders scross the night sky
i have watched you and me and him and in our lives we have seen nothing more beautiful than the interactions we share and when i see the people we are and are no longer it makes me smile and the saints cry their agreement
why can they be honored with sleep while i pace constantly upstairs until my eyes shut from exhaustion? why can they not just let me go where i can sleep and sleep well?
muss es sein?
the prayer beads are not wood nor metal but something light and hard and it must be my bones my bones dyed brown and each time i hold them i ask for forgiveness (for i cannot help being human) and as i pour my horror and sorrow into the beads they transform it and holding them i feel hope despite my heavy heart (i will wrap the beads around my heart and dance until i cannot feel anything except the air flowing in and out of my lungs and i will know i am there where i have always been yet have never visited until this moment)
es muss sein.
i was blessed with an eye to see the best; a hand to create what i could; a brain which to imagine; and i twist my words for you, dear, for may they make more sense to you than they ever could to me.
i have been hungering for that fix since i was born and once you have felt it you long to feel it again -- it is in your veins your skin your blood and you wander down alleys and scurry about the streets and you will pay your pretty penny to feel it again because you know once your eyes roll up and your mouth contorts into that feeble smile that god is kissing you on your forehead -- mumbling your thanks when this minute fades you know you must go chasing god for one kiss is never enough never enough
divine, oh my dear, from words what you will, for everyone can find their secret meanings in these sweet nothings and who can pay attention to grammar when the phrases and thoughts spill out of you like water flowing over the edge of the glass?
i have survived and you have survived and it is a hard road but it must be traveled by weary musicians like ourselves for everyone needs a taste of talent
es muss sein.
we are the last cowboys of a dying generation and as it screams we must pull the trigger BAM BAM BAM for no one else will do it but us and they will condemn us and drive us back into the desert where we have lived for years but they will realize that we had to we had to oh god we had to because no one else would
i only wanted to make you laugh because your smile is so precious but you were so lost in your own agony that all i could do was hug you and tell you everything is all right and oh how i wish you would believe me.