| | sometimes i fail to see
the shardlings inside of me
my mine a splintery, spiraling grave
magnificent if only for chaotic
yet ordered
violence and fear.
sometimes i see
the green and red and orange and purple
the sharp the soft
what's far and near
and that thing that looms
so dear so near.
minds wander and cross roads
to meet, make inroads
on conflicting subjects and hurtful thoughts
what i'd like to say and what she'd rather not.
triangles and squares reflect the lairs
or expose the rare mind within that fucked up skull —
a rotting victim to their own device.
we shouted across fields in order to whisper our sentiments,
blather, really.
vomitting insults and lathering praise
all served one purpose
to get fucking laid.
but conflicts burst, shatter ones mind:
conflicts create what we all want to find;
comfort in hate, love in fear,
a wonderous journey through tears and smirks
and fists and jabs
and words with sharp edges
and blunt meanings
that all tear and destroy.
we like it.
but it didn't help us get fucking laid.
so we rebuilt reality once more;
fashioned it to a model of something a bit more eclectic:
love everywhere.
but it was, of course, shallow, and cheapened.
we soon hated love, honestly.
it hated us, anyhow, right?
and still sometimes i fail to see
what it all meant to me.
what did it all mean to be
loved and hated, disgraced and distrusting.
filthy, no, atrohphied minds shatter in the end,
and i still fail to see. |
| | Posted 8/14/2007 3:15 AM - 35 Views - 2 eProps - 1 Comment
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