Tuesday, January 4, 2011

No Date

Fuck that shit, he's a fucking creeper.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Self involved and self inflicted, don't
you understand your words get under my skin?
Might as well just fucking wear me, the newest
spring fashion making my toes and tip o' the tongue tingle
with tulips springing outta my spine like cancerous
growths on the lips of landlocked lovers.
i always loved the sea.
It's like one o'clock in the morning,
but I have two things I really need to say
only it keeps gnawing at the gaping maw like
some sort of sign, or better yet, prophecy.
just let me say it.
I'm so sick and tired of hearing about other
people's agendas, like I'm the twelve o'clock meeting
rescheduled for four, but shit there goes my trust again
lining the velvet pockets of smiling chesire cats who
always seem so goddamn happy.
i always wanted to be happy.
Your words bury me whole like some sort of slow motion
avalanche I had been warned of years before, but like
some dumb struck leper I leap into
the folds of the conundrum only to be swallowed
gulped, inhaled like some small fact by the brain.
you pick amongst the ashes of my bones some
sort of trinket to take home, some sort of prize.
Am I really worth remembering, or just something to look
back onto?
i wish time would fold onto itself.
take this, take all of it, don't you know?
I made this for you. So have it.
I gave up on this route a long time ago, but trust me,
it's so much easier now because I can call myself crazy
and they'll all believe it.
Skin me alive and puppet the muscles left into some sort
of useful figure, like the storyteller, or the dreamer,
better yet, some dirty assed schemer.
i've left vanity and pride on the bedside table,
and look at me now, the hole has swallowed my stomach
whole, hole.
I am nothing special, you say, you act, you show.
And yet, I feel like I can show you the world.
Well, wear my skin, and it's my world.





No date. He was weird. I just couldn't do it. He was ridiculous. That's ok. I didn't really care much. I just thought it was cute at first. Then it got weird.
Jules and I are going on a cruise, and I've realized, I am only somewhat happy when I have something to look forward to.

And yet, I am all the more scared of looking forward as well.
1:27am, what a reoccurring time in my life. Must be my muse time.
Night.

No comments:

Post a Comment