Reflexive robbery
Sun up, sun down and the moon comes out. The Earth has done its tour of itself, and my turn is up. Under the celestial tarpit come burning droppings of hatred in the form of words- classification of infinite entities made temporal, finite- understandable and communicable to others.
Mom made me mad
Someone called me Gay
These girls made me sad
Was all I could say
Just a young man
learning the ropes
Soul and spirit spic 'n' span
...They'd also cleaned me of hopes.
And as night would fall, I'd open the great scrolls of misery, kill the Jesus I thought I was and let Mr. Hyde take control. Drip Drip, the sound of hateful tar dripping from above, arriving here on the page in the form of Deathwishes, percieved victories and ignorant fears.
Look at me!
I'm your circus clown!
Oh, you can't see?
...Cause I'm so far pushed down.
Only to be risen
by building the core
...Actually escaping the prison
by robbing a convenience store
The prison of you
of the Big Bad Other
As you squeeze my neck blue
And as my face you smother
Fuck the Caged Bird
It can only sing
...sure, my misery you heard
Before I beat you with my wing.
Before you fell from the breeze
...Rushing power of my fleet
Before you saw me stand tall
Before YOU took a seat.
Now what about that shop
The one I robbed to break free
Where I had to violently stop
The buying and selling of me
A few slugs I fired
At the merchants in the store
Its true- drugs did make me tired
--Tired of being a social whore.
All the blood spilled, I found it quite funny
As I went behind the counter to collect my riches
Taking not nickles, dimes, or any sort of money
Rather roles, obligations and socially-constructed niches.
After filling my bag full of what I was told
About fashion, customs and how to sit still
I looked at the survivors with a look so bold
Not a shot was required to finish the kill.
I then dropped my loot to examine my fingers
Which I promptly noticed were remarkably stained
So I plunged them into a bloody corpse that lingered
Until not a single ounce of bare skin remained
When I say dirty, you must understand it as "pure"
Untouched by violence, anger, refusal to abide
For I see these as being the cure
To the cancerous shame, replacing it with pride.
Pride which they bought
at my unwilling provision
And after which I sought
And found with precision
You may be aching in curiosity
At this seemingly random metaphor
Why did he act, which such ferocity
This way in a convenience store?
Because we are easily coerced
At Society's slightest whim
To sell ourselves to others- being reimbursed
By the Alpha, the Omega, the Almighty Him.
Because it's more convenient to strive
To do what others tell you to
Because its a much further drive
To being free, to holding the unadulterated power
of being purely, shamelessly YOU.
Mom made me mad
Someone called me Gay
These girls made me sad
Was all I could say
Just a young man
learning the ropes
Soul and spirit spic 'n' span
...They'd also cleaned me of hopes.
And as night would fall, I'd open the great scrolls of misery, kill the Jesus I thought I was and let Mr. Hyde take control. Drip Drip, the sound of hateful tar dripping from above, arriving here on the page in the form of Deathwishes, percieved victories and ignorant fears.
Look at me!
I'm your circus clown!
Oh, you can't see?
...Cause I'm so far pushed down.
Only to be risen
by building the core
...Actually escaping the prison
by robbing a convenience store
The prison of you
of the Big Bad Other
As you squeeze my neck blue
And as my face you smother
Fuck the Caged Bird
It can only sing
...sure, my misery you heard
Before I beat you with my wing.
Before you fell from the breeze
...Rushing power of my fleet
Before you saw me stand tall
Before YOU took a seat.
Now what about that shop
The one I robbed to break free
Where I had to violently stop
The buying and selling of me
A few slugs I fired
At the merchants in the store
Its true- drugs did make me tired
--Tired of being a social whore.
All the blood spilled, I found it quite funny
As I went behind the counter to collect my riches
Taking not nickles, dimes, or any sort of money
Rather roles, obligations and socially-constructed niches.
After filling my bag full of what I was told
About fashion, customs and how to sit still
I looked at the survivors with a look so bold
Not a shot was required to finish the kill.
I then dropped my loot to examine my fingers
Which I promptly noticed were remarkably stained
So I plunged them into a bloody corpse that lingered
Until not a single ounce of bare skin remained
When I say dirty, you must understand it as "pure"
Untouched by violence, anger, refusal to abide
For I see these as being the cure
To the cancerous shame, replacing it with pride.
Pride which they bought
at my unwilling provision
And after which I sought
And found with precision
You may be aching in curiosity
At this seemingly random metaphor
Why did he act, which such ferocity
This way in a convenience store?
Because we are easily coerced
At Society's slightest whim
To sell ourselves to others- being reimbursed
By the Alpha, the Omega, the Almighty Him.
Because it's more convenient to strive
To do what others tell you to
Because its a much further drive
To being free, to holding the unadulterated power
of being purely, shamelessly YOU.