It's now that time, I've got to go,
Silenced emotions begin to flow,
Exploding, tears beat her cheeks as they run away,
I can't believe it's only Saturday.
All those times, I said I loved her,
Kissed her deep upon the spur,
Of a moment so romantic that it causes me pain,
Will I ever get to see her again?
What can I possibly do for her?
'Try to make it all better' ?
By telling her sweet nothings, when nothing's left to say,
I can't believe it's only Saturday.
What was my life before her?
A bare, blank page, no colour,
Anywhere. Let's go there, that's where I want to be,
Run away for a year and day in a boat colloured like a pea.
I caress her face, mixed beauty and grace,
Being a mess, I'm all over the place,
Any place would be better, carry her off, steal her away,
I can't belive it's only Saturday.
I must be off, mum's waiting,
Ringing my phone, reminding, vibrating,
Away at me, telling me, but I stay, hold her tight,
Soon another man will be her shining knight.
I let her go, imagine my future,
I can't seem to find life without her,
Her hand waves in the side mirror as we drive away,
I can't believe today is Saturday.
Monday, 6 September 2010
Sunday, 5 September 2010
Today
Today isn't my day,
It belongs to someone else,
As cruel, unkind and bitter as I,
And whom I repulse.
The weather agrees with me,
Violent winds howl desire,
A means to escape, to be free,
Caught upon, barbed wire,
Although alone on this worker's wheel,
That cat on that mat,
Sat toying with that rat,
Don't tell me he don't know how I feel.
Surreal. Isn't it.
I'm telling you now, I'm not the only one,
Who's lost in this wilderness,
Without a light to turn on.
Today is not my day,
I just can't do this anymore,
My cat is howling, mother scowling,
A prisoner of my own civil war.
It belongs to someone else,
As cruel, unkind and bitter as I,
And whom I repulse.
The weather agrees with me,
Violent winds howl desire,
A means to escape, to be free,
Caught upon, barbed wire,
Although alone on this worker's wheel,
That cat on that mat,
Sat toying with that rat,
Don't tell me he don't know how I feel.
Surreal. Isn't it.
I'm telling you now, I'm not the only one,
Who's lost in this wilderness,
Without a light to turn on.
Today is not my day,
I just can't do this anymore,
My cat is howling, mother scowling,
A prisoner of my own civil war.
Friday, 3 September 2010
Pretentious/ depressing crap I write
There will always be that guiding light,
To save you upon that cold, dark night.
I hate these things,
These feelings I feel,
When everyone leaves,
And nothing is real.
Doing the little things overtime,
Keeps everything neat and fine.
There's an escape, an open door.
How I only wish, it would tell me more.
With the innocence of youth,
And a dangerous mind,
Was a curious girl,
Who questioned her kind.
With a criminal mind,
The same little girl,
Set one goal in life,
To destroy the world.
I know that you wont miss me,
but if you did this too,
Assure yourself completely,
That I'd be missing you.
With a swithblade knife and a broken heart,
She cut away back to the start.
With a broken heart and a switchblade knife,
She ended all this trouble and strife.
I will add to this. I just need to start remembering things.
To save you upon that cold, dark night.
I hate these things,
These feelings I feel,
When everyone leaves,
And nothing is real.
Doing the little things overtime,
Keeps everything neat and fine.
There's an escape, an open door.
How I only wish, it would tell me more.
With the innocence of youth,
And a dangerous mind,
Was a curious girl,
Who questioned her kind.
With a criminal mind,
The same little girl,
Set one goal in life,
To destroy the world.
I know that you wont miss me,
but if you did this too,
Assure yourself completely,
That I'd be missing you.
With a swithblade knife and a broken heart,
She cut away back to the start.
With a broken heart and a switchblade knife,
She ended all this trouble and strife.
I will add to this. I just need to start remembering things.
Attack of the masses...
It's here. It's starting again. College, it's beginning.
Somedays it feels like I'm entering the very start. Unfortunately it's the very start of the enevitable. The very end.
Ever winding down day by day, waiting for me, just waiting, lurking in the shadows. I don't know it's name. I wish I did. Somene once told me that if you give something a name, then you're less scared of it. I've asked it before, but it wouldn't tell me.
I've heard him being called depression. But there's someone else too. Never quite visible, always hiding, just one step behind. Not depression I've met him many times, know him well. Too well. She, she's something much more. She doesn't like the other people. Doesn't like seeing them. Being near them. Having to hear their screaming day after day. Deep down inside, never letting out what is real, the truth of their soul. Their fake laughs, that smile. They all fade after a while. But she knows. She always knows. And now she's waiting. Just for me.
All of a sudden there's people around me. Their voices, murmering, swarming about the lower level trying to escape. Up on high, there are these other sounds, more of happiness, joy, laughter. I don't understand. I can't compute this anymore. To many voices all shouting at me, demading me answers. Wanting to be allowed, out. Freed. It's as if they all combine together, creating an incomprhensible language, that one may never decode.
Lights are going in and out of my eyeline. Images swimming in and out of focus. My head screaming relentlessly. It's hot, was it this hot earlier? I don't remember hearing that voice before. Why are they laughing? All laughing, happy. So, so....
I fall to the floor, atleast that's not warm. A safe serenity from this vocal storm.
Somedays it feels like I'm entering the very start. Unfortunately it's the very start of the enevitable. The very end.
Ever winding down day by day, waiting for me, just waiting, lurking in the shadows. I don't know it's name. I wish I did. Somene once told me that if you give something a name, then you're less scared of it. I've asked it before, but it wouldn't tell me.
I've heard him being called depression. But there's someone else too. Never quite visible, always hiding, just one step behind. Not depression I've met him many times, know him well. Too well. She, she's something much more. She doesn't like the other people. Doesn't like seeing them. Being near them. Having to hear their screaming day after day. Deep down inside, never letting out what is real, the truth of their soul. Their fake laughs, that smile. They all fade after a while. But she knows. She always knows. And now she's waiting. Just for me.
All of a sudden there's people around me. Their voices, murmering, swarming about the lower level trying to escape. Up on high, there are these other sounds, more of happiness, joy, laughter. I don't understand. I can't compute this anymore. To many voices all shouting at me, demading me answers. Wanting to be allowed, out. Freed. It's as if they all combine together, creating an incomprhensible language, that one may never decode.
Lights are going in and out of my eyeline. Images swimming in and out of focus. My head screaming relentlessly. It's hot, was it this hot earlier? I don't remember hearing that voice before. Why are they laughing? All laughing, happy. So, so....
I fall to the floor, atleast that's not warm. A safe serenity from this vocal storm.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)