Been.

Been feeling rather

like I’ve been,

tossed out with the trash again,

been hearing laughter

inside my brain,

for getting played like a slot machine,

been taking refuge

in a jackal’s den,

naked, with a so-called gentleman,

been driven into

the wall again,

petal to the metal into the median,

been feeling nothing

but pure obscurity,

a vague and insecure uncertainty,

been here wondering

ponderously,

imprisoned by my own duplicity,

been tapping constantly

on the keys ‘til my fingers bleed,

to dispel the hurt I’ll feel inevitably,

been like, yeah – well, maybe,

I’ve been shafted again,

 sour, that out-dated milk carton,

been eating candy,

vainly, to try and sweeten,

the taste of my faith going quickly rotten.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Been.

Been feeling rather

like I’ve been,

tossed out with the trash again,

been hearing laughter

inside my brain,

for getting played like a slot machine,

been taking refuge

in a jackal’s den,

naked, with a so-called gentleman,

been driven into

the wall again,

petal to the metal into the median,

been feeling nothing

but pure obscurity,

a vague and insecure uncertainty,

been here wondering

ponderously,

imprisoned by my own duplicity,

been tapping constantly

on the keys ‘til my fingers bleed,

to dispel the hurt I’ll feel inevitably,

been like, yeah – well, maybe,

I’ve been shafted again,

 sour, that out-dated milk carton,

been eating candy,

vainly, to try and sweeten,

the taste of my faith going quickly rotten.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dot.

I can be angry
and not wish you ill
for all of the things
that I’m discovering still;

I can resent you
and not stand in the way
of the places you’re going
with me out of your face;

I can choose to
turn away
and not listen
to a word you say;
Which admittedly,
is hard on me
because I don’t usually
roll that way;

I can write of
the promises made
and broken between
the exact same space;

I can hold grudges
that turn into
massive tidal waves
that will swallow you

I can choose to
follow along
with the flock
that sings your song;
which truthfully
just isn’t me
so please –
don’t get me wrong.

I can be nothing,
to you, in your life
and this will
suit me just fine;

You can still see me
though I’m only a dot,
in your rear view
on a map that you lost.

Countdown to Nothing.

Everyone’s asking

What I plan to do

To ring in the bring

Of another year, new

Can’t seem to communicate

Clearly to you

Can’t seem to articulate

The words I mean to

The parades on the street

Leave me wanting to puke

the commercials on TV  

And the anchors on the News

Another year gone

Another comes right on queue

Three hundred sixty five

And I’ve got nothing to show to you

Just another day and night

The New Year offers nothing new

Just another song and dance

For a crowd that blows darts at you.

Dot.

I can be angry
and not wish you ill
for all of the things
that I’m discovering still;

I can resent you
and not stand in the way
of the places you’re going
with me out of your face;

I can choose to
turn away
and not listen
to a word you say;
Which admittedly,
is hard on me
because I don’t usually
roll that way;

I can write of
the promises made
and broken between
the exact same space;

I can hold grudges
that turn into
massive tidal waves
that will swallow you

I can choose to
follow along
with the flock
that sings your song;
which truthfully
just isn’t me
so please –
don’t get me wrong.

I can be nothing,
to you, in your life
and this will
suit me just fine;

You can still see me
though I’m only a dot,
in your rear view
on a map that you lost.

Chitter.

kiss011

Se havia um,

objectivo

no que estávamos

a fazer;

only the others

know it in their’ hearts,

not me…

I have this dark, bleeding heart;

E mesmo que

houvesse ameaça,

então nós saberiam;

undiscovered things

will not see fear in me,

or so…

I like to believe, in the dark;

Ich werde Ihre,

Unterstützung nicht

mehr verlangen;

my veins dry-bleed

inside of the sad goodbyes

            no more…

Concludes, the story of my heart.