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i push myself down
and crawl to my destinations
on bleeding palms and tearing knees
i resist doing what had
filled me full of pride in me
pride i needed to keep walking straight
i subdue and withhold
but what is it that i'm holding?
all i have here is what i truly think is real
i dump out my head
and i find all kinds of fish
with rolled up maps in their stomachs
i fear and i hold back
all the words that have been
begging me and tugging at my sleeves
i learn so much now
and with every passing day
i morph those fish into scaled birds
i roll over and over
and i collect life on my skin
absorbing it all into me for processing
i shake the feathers
from my eyes and ringing ears
i refuse to cower in the shadow of loss
i want to set free my brainwords
but is that so wrong of me?
why am i scared of what i've always done?
To Cure ParanoiaTo Cure Paranoia
doors creak open, seem concealing
windows blow dark curtains in
into a room where nothing sleeps
tension lives where peace had been
you've been scarred, i see it plainly
but i'm not the one who wronged you
so lift yourself up from these floors
that splinter your insides black and blue
doors creak open, but it's just me, see?
and i'm here to take you from your hell
i will not I WILL NOT hurt you, my love
i bear no monsters for you to duel
A MoodA Mood
it's raining today
but i can't feel the water
or breathe the wet asphalt.
it's colder today
but i have no fireplace
and definitely no patience.
it's sunday today?
it's monday today.
and i don't care for effort.
it's annoying being
and as my lips dry
i contemplate, but do nothing.
i am in a mood
and i do not like it.
i want to hurt and break things.
i am angry today
and i'm not sure why.
maybe because you piss me off.
i am numb today
and i don't like that either.
and i hate a lot of things i shouldn't.
it's raining today
but i can't feel much else
besides how i want to slam doors.
The Internet is BoringThe Internet is Boring
keys are warm on my fingertips.
tap. tap. reach to my right. click.
selfishness. such blind selfishness.
there is heat everywhere and
it seems my forehead is the sun.
i don't feel well. i've slept too long.
and i have the same two pages
open and littered with information
that will most certainly enrich me.
my spine is tight against itself
as if cringing from an oncoming
blow. i drift in a state of something.
the sun in my head blazes hot.
in its orbit are millions of bright
and colorful planets: dusty clumps.
all the vitamin c in that plastic jar
couldn't wake me or make me
into a ripe and ready orange.
i want to get up. i want to do.
DON'T TOUCH ME. I AM VAUL
NERABLE. sometimes i hate being.
it's surprising... and the music's name
doesn't always reveal its sound,
for sometimes ears can outsee eyes.
i don't want to be in this room today.
and i have the same two pages
open that bear nothing of interest.
no, i do not want to go
sun, you're too yellow.
sky, you're too vast.
collapse. blanket me.
greyweather, find me.
cold wind, bind me.
oh, how i've come to miss it:
the chill of your calm.
meant for more; settled.
screamed for adventure:
cowered under clearness.
i am still just as scared.
and all those times i was
all those times i had been
standing under home's skies,
i knew there was something there.
someone stood there with me
under the same skies i had loathed:
the skies i begged to dissipate
into blues and whites of tranquility.
in greyweather, a voice
cuts through heaviness
and digs me up from sleep:
you're the brightest of greys.
oh, and i am never happy.
oftentimes i find myself elsewhere
when i should be calm: content.
the sun has been far too yellow.
Busride, Busride.Busride, Busride.
hop up the steps
look for you - him
wish i were dead
blueness - ignorance
feels good to regress
blue sugar, blue fire
fall through the floor
for those eyes betrayed
pass on now, pass on
sit in that back seat
it's where you belong
alone and very cold
fray your self-esteem
while they're all laughing
when their pity is false
see the hair on his head
above the se(a)tbacks
move on now, move on
draw broken hearts
split down the middle
it's the frosted window game
dead center - dead soul
myself turned her back
tears on misery's shoulder
here - a century later
it doesn't seem so long
be gone now, be gone
robins move through mulch piles
eager for their worms
stealthless birds reveal themselves
red breasts become beacons - breathing
and i feel a forgotten lyric
like stumbling, fevered words
and a hand thumbing through me
searching for fossils - gold
the tears that swelled here
in the dark valleys of my eyelids
have long since watered deserts
but their teeth still hurt - pinching
impossibility can't be quenched
and my wolf's mouth devours them
the red and redding robin birds
fated to fly no more - grounded
as i digest this mind i've eaten
i come to taste it is my own
grass blades speak lost languages
and familiar rains dapple me - softening
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