when
i was on the dark streets of decay
i
was bold and confident
my
lips and my finger saying,
“FUCK
YOU!”
but
since i’ve left
what
i have written
is
more like,
“can
i get a hug?”
while
everyone thinks i’m still saying,
“the
existential aspects of the metaphysical
are
so hopelessly devoid of meaning
as
to render life as being absurd”
frustration
communication
“don’t
touch me!
no,
wait, don’t let me go”
i’m
beyond going down slow
someone
has pulled the plug
and
i’m circling the drain
i’m
told they’ll hold
as
soon as i’m clean
submit
to the scold
and
find the serene
oh
why and the hell do i search for love
among
those that sacrifice two doves
for
their newly circumcised son
but
without your warmth
i
shiver and shake
oh
jesus christ and for heaven’s sake
do
frogs need more than lily pads and flies
you
are so ignorant yet you make me cry
when
you reject me
***
No comments:
Post a Comment