Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Movements In Quick Sand

Move you say.
It's the only way to get anywhere.

To get away from you.
To get away from me.
To get away from this.
To get away from us.

You push.
Until I'm in a corner.
You stab.
Until I'm crippled in that corner.
I swear I'd take a bullet for you.
But I'd take a bullet over your words any day.
You scream.
Until my voice has decided to quit.
You fight.
Until the fight in me is gone.

Immobilized. Broken. Out of breath.
You say I need to move.

Once strength is regained.
I cautiously scan.
Take a step into the sun.
Only to be drawn into your shade.

Consistency always suited you best.
And what's consistency without the one who's never left?
But who is that fair to?
Time lapses, and look at it backwards.

Please tell me where you want me to go.
Because you won't let me do it on my own.
You're virtually unpleasable.
You're virally indestructable.

I accept that.
Do you?

The difference between a man and a boy is a man takes responsibility for his actions.
Where did the man go you so often claim to be?

You're unsatisfied when I yearn for you.
You're unsatisfied when I yearn to stray from you.
So please.
Fucking place me.

My body is just a timebomb now.
Waiting to fucking explode.

Thursday, September 24, 2009

The Sound Of Settling

Just so we can get this out of the way.

You make me angry.
You make me angry.
You make me angry.
You make me angry.
You make me angry.
You make me angry.
You make me angry.

Put me in a place, because apparently I can't do it on my own.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

I Ain't Never Gonna Shut You Out

Morning, bloggers!

Here's an acoustic cover of 'Halo' by Beyonce.
The video is sort of choppy and the audio is whatever, but enjoy it nonetheless!

Thursday, September 17, 2009

And If You Have A Minute Why Don't We Go Talk About It Somewhere Only We Know

I feel like writing something really angry.
REALLY angry.
But I have no words.
Just a few lines that put together don't make sense.

So instead I take it out on yellow lined paper.
Drawing things.
Anything to not be angry.
Anything to release this tension in my wrists.
In my legs.
In my arms.
In my head.

And all I have is some sort out inter galactic adventure.
Made of absolute randomness.
A spaceman, a star maker, a storm maker, and the sandman.
Reflection of my inners?
Maybe not.

All I know is,
I'm angry.
And stuck.
Very stuck.
And the only way to get unstuck is to move.
But I feel like it'll just bring me back here.
Granted, you can't know until you try.
But is there even a point if the conviction is this strong?



Friday, September 11, 2009

Told A Story About A Man Who Was Too Afraid To Fly, So He Never Did Land

Let's all take a moment.
A breath.
A sigh.
A tear.
Of silence.
For those who lost their lifes in New York City today 8 years ago.

It really seems like yesterday I was watching the news story in my parents bedroom.
We all were crying.
I've never had such a silent day in elementary school.

It continues to amaze me for as 'domestic' as we consider ourselves to be, how animalistic we still are.
Granted, part of that runs in our veins, we are indeed mammals.
But we preach peace, and wage wars.
Step up, America.
Step up, universe.

But to those affected.
Stay strong.
Keep breathing and push ahead.
It's the best, and only thing we can do.

Mad love floods out of my pores today for you, you, and you.

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

And After All, You're My Wonderwall

And now it begins.
Don't act surprised.

I'm really losing all sorts of grip aren't I?

I didn't plan for this.
I swear.
But it doesn't make it hurt less.

Sleep deprived. Dream deprived. The numbness becomes home.
Take a photo before you lose the moment.

But alas,
Let's take a moment to remember to laugh.

There needs to be some kind of sunshine today.

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Buttercup Colored Gown

And there it goes.
These tired eyes can't even focus on the issue at hand.
These sounds are all too farmilliar.
Synaesthesia doesn't exist.
This is all real.
The buttercup colored gown goes up in flames.
And turns into bitter, grey ashes.
Rejuvination is vanquished.
But only for a little while.
For the ashes still exist.
And regardless of where they may go.
It happened.
What am I doing?
What are you doing?
Your actions to set me free do nothing but cripple.
Until movement is a privilege.
And leave me at the bottom.
Under the bottom arguably.
So what's left?
Damn ashes.
So I pick them up.
And wonder where I'm supposed to go.
If one doesn't see amidst many.
Almost unanimous.
The one is wrong, isn't it?
Ask the ashes.
Where do we go from here?
On this dark September night.
Caught in these yellow threads.

Ashes to ashes.
Ashes to ashes.

Sing Your Melody, I'll Sing It Loud

I really should not be up...
Considering I need to be at work in about 5 hours, therefore having to get up in 4.
But alas, I can't sleep.
I don't know what I'm doing.
Cracking my fingers and iChatting.
What a way to end a weekend of turbulence.
Just relaxed silence.

Until it all resets.