Can you cry? Can I break you down and break you apart? I hope so, I hope you're human, I can't stand more disappointment anymore. I can't stand anymore perfection in my life. Please be flawed, please be afraid, please make mistakes, please make me mad. Love me, hate me, with me or away from me, just don't be perfect, anything but perfect.
I can't stand perfect, I can't live up to perfect.
Be my broken doll, be my fatal flaw, be the thing that tears me up, be the friend I need tonight.
Can you be that for me? Just be you please. Be you for me so I can be me for you and no one has to be perfect.
Be my broken doll, loved despite the ruined hair and broken body. A one-armed well-loved heirloom of childhood memories.
Be my fatal flaw, let me love you too hard, let me ruin my chances with every other girl in the world even if you leave me. Let me let you ruin me.
Tear me up, tear me down, throw me around its all I want. Destroy what's left of me if you leave, make yourself the last one.
Let me love you too hard and too completely, let me destroy myself with you. I want to fight with you, make up with you, go out with you, get down with you. Be there for you, and watch you be there for others. I want to be there for the memories, I want to be there for everyone's memories, but let me be there for yours.
Be my ocean, let me dive right in, but batter me hopeless, because I can't swim.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Friday, October 24, 2008
Foggy rooms, full of hops
Harmless right? Smaller than your finger, tendrils reaching out towards the sky as you watch it carefully smolder between your fingers. Is this it? All the hype over a tiny little thing like this? I can do this, its hardly worth the breath wasted on it. Tight lips, calm face, tiny breaths, flowing thoughts, yes, no, maybe, go. Red checkered lights arise in approval as you feel your body escalate and rise a little from your feet. Heart slows, pulse drops, eyes drop, thoughts crawl, fingers stiff, blood flow, breath out, breath, stop.
Is this it? I don't see cows, I'm not feeling addicted, I'm not dead, maybe I'm fine.
Step two, breath, stop. Pass, and watch the tendrils reach towards the sky, eyes tilt up and the ceiling seems to open up into the world, no longer a room, and yet the smoke only floats above your head.
Is this it? Is that all? I can do this. But you can't.
Drowsy eyes, and clumsy feet, stagger through the stairs into the hall and up the door. High, low, back, front, everything seems to twist without moving. Is this all? Is this it? This it is? What? How? Don't ask, you don't understand. Touch, taste, dull and dim, lips hang and loving is easy. Easy loving? Beltwards backs and topside hats.
Three steps on a 10 step stairwell, can you climb back to your bedroom?
No hope, no taste, feel the flavor fill your veins. Image blurs, memory fades, is this how it feels to die? Blackness crops the edge of vision, and night fades into a dim view which fades from sight until you meet Monday, two days later, lost a weekend to a harmless little glass.
Is this it? Is this all? I can't do this. I want help, let me be free.
But I can't be. He can't be, she can't be, they can't be, we can't be. I can't be free.
Is this it? I don't see cows, I'm not feeling addicted, I'm not dead, maybe I'm fine.
Step two, breath, stop. Pass, and watch the tendrils reach towards the sky, eyes tilt up and the ceiling seems to open up into the world, no longer a room, and yet the smoke only floats above your head.
Is this it? Is that all? I can do this. But you can't.
Drowsy eyes, and clumsy feet, stagger through the stairs into the hall and up the door. High, low, back, front, everything seems to twist without moving. Is this all? Is this it? This it is? What? How? Don't ask, you don't understand. Touch, taste, dull and dim, lips hang and loving is easy. Easy loving? Beltwards backs and topside hats.
Three steps on a 10 step stairwell, can you climb back to your bedroom?
No hope, no taste, feel the flavor fill your veins. Image blurs, memory fades, is this how it feels to die? Blackness crops the edge of vision, and night fades into a dim view which fades from sight until you meet Monday, two days later, lost a weekend to a harmless little glass.
Is this it? Is this all? I can't do this. I want help, let me be free.
But I can't be. He can't be, she can't be, they can't be, we can't be. I can't be free.
On Faith
Revalation, it comes in waves and ebbs and flows with the conciousness of the mind.
Faith, it drives humanity and individuals with different values and views.
Beauty and ugly all in the same sight, all in the same view, and yet different.
Are you loved, are you damned, are you saved, are you hated, what does your diety think of you?
Faith came to me as skipping stones. Religion is but a pebble among the rough upon the earth, waiting to be selected by the passing, contemplative hand. Gone over a thousand times, or held symbolically and meaninglessly in the open palm. Surveyed for every ridge, flaw and fashion, good and bad, right and wrong. Is it smooth, rough, caring and kind? That is for the inquisitive hand to find as it surveys the pebble. There, at the edge of the pond of life, one inspects the pebble or simply holds it. Faith, held upon the tip of a pin and held as close as the person wishes it to be. Then, as they grow, they are forced to cast their pebble into the pond and see where it lands.
To most, they cast it half-heartedly, little thought and little care, assuming religion will care for itself. Don't go to church, don't pray, don't worship, don't think, don't hold your values true, don't care. They toss the pebble they know little of into the pond before them.
For those, the pebble shall bounce, skip across the waters of life, once...twice...then into the water it disappears, and out of their mind it fades.
However, there are those who are not so hopeless. People say they have blindfaith. People say they don't see reason. People say that they are foolish or naieve. No, they are empowered by their faith and their drive is offered both by themselves, and another whom holds more power than one could imagine.
These hands, having studied and surveyed every facet of their chosen pebble, their chosen faith, cast their pebble into the water, skipping it across that calm pond of life. This pebble skips, once...twice...three times...it keeps going, defying the strength they'd poured into it as it bounces clear towards the horizon, past the bounds of comprehension and into the sunset, disappearing from sight.
Ask these people, do you believe in God, Allah, Buddha, Reincarnation, do you believe your pebble is still skipping? They are confident, they smile and they offer you no anger or hate, regardless of how you view them, "Of course, my pebble skips ever onwards. Just because I can't see it doesn't mean it is lost to me."
So ask yourself, does faith make you blind or does faith make you see?
Faith, it drives humanity and individuals with different values and views.
Beauty and ugly all in the same sight, all in the same view, and yet different.
Are you loved, are you damned, are you saved, are you hated, what does your diety think of you?
Faith came to me as skipping stones. Religion is but a pebble among the rough upon the earth, waiting to be selected by the passing, contemplative hand. Gone over a thousand times, or held symbolically and meaninglessly in the open palm. Surveyed for every ridge, flaw and fashion, good and bad, right and wrong. Is it smooth, rough, caring and kind? That is for the inquisitive hand to find as it surveys the pebble. There, at the edge of the pond of life, one inspects the pebble or simply holds it. Faith, held upon the tip of a pin and held as close as the person wishes it to be. Then, as they grow, they are forced to cast their pebble into the pond and see where it lands.
To most, they cast it half-heartedly, little thought and little care, assuming religion will care for itself. Don't go to church, don't pray, don't worship, don't think, don't hold your values true, don't care. They toss the pebble they know little of into the pond before them.
For those, the pebble shall bounce, skip across the waters of life, once...twice...then into the water it disappears, and out of their mind it fades.
However, there are those who are not so hopeless. People say they have blindfaith. People say they don't see reason. People say that they are foolish or naieve. No, they are empowered by their faith and their drive is offered both by themselves, and another whom holds more power than one could imagine.
These hands, having studied and surveyed every facet of their chosen pebble, their chosen faith, cast their pebble into the water, skipping it across that calm pond of life. This pebble skips, once...twice...three times...it keeps going, defying the strength they'd poured into it as it bounces clear towards the horizon, past the bounds of comprehension and into the sunset, disappearing from sight.
Ask these people, do you believe in God, Allah, Buddha, Reincarnation, do you believe your pebble is still skipping? They are confident, they smile and they offer you no anger or hate, regardless of how you view them, "Of course, my pebble skips ever onwards. Just because I can't see it doesn't mean it is lost to me."
So ask yourself, does faith make you blind or does faith make you see?
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Thursday Thoughts.
I am a man, or a boy, someone growing into the skin of reality and realizing life isn't always how you expect it to be.
Can you breathe watching me now? Knowing I'm becoming what you always wanted me to be?
Do you hate how I seem to emerge and succeed and do it all with far less effort than you?
Can you feel that breeze which holds me up, like the delicate surf of the ocean keeping me buoyant with its waves?
I'm the archer, shooting straight for the sky, do you think my arrow will fly?
I think I'll make it, I think I'll soar, but will you bind me to the floor?
Release my cage and emerge the winner, help me fly you foolish thing!
No matter how you hold my heels, and bind my body I still will sing!
Why fight the facts that evade your grip, why fight what will happen?
You fear the future, fear your age, and fear I will fly away?
Touch, taste, smile, sing, dance, flow, drive, stop.
Crash, burn, cry, drown, sink, follow.
Sunrise, once again, the light comes forth, touching every tendril of grass in my world.
So bright, the eyes reject their images, unaccustomed to such joy.
Open arms, warm rays of sunshine fill the day and once more the wings are dry.
Is this it? What I yearn and search for? What drives me onwards?
Can you breathe watching me now? Knowing I'm becoming what you always wanted me to be?
Do you hate how I seem to emerge and succeed and do it all with far less effort than you?
Can you feel that breeze which holds me up, like the delicate surf of the ocean keeping me buoyant with its waves?
I'm the archer, shooting straight for the sky, do you think my arrow will fly?
I think I'll make it, I think I'll soar, but will you bind me to the floor?
Release my cage and emerge the winner, help me fly you foolish thing!
No matter how you hold my heels, and bind my body I still will sing!
Why fight the facts that evade your grip, why fight what will happen?
You fear the future, fear your age, and fear I will fly away?
Touch, taste, smile, sing, dance, flow, drive, stop.
Crash, burn, cry, drown, sink, follow.
Sunrise, once again, the light comes forth, touching every tendril of grass in my world.
So bright, the eyes reject their images, unaccustomed to such joy.
Open arms, warm rays of sunshine fill the day and once more the wings are dry.
Is this it? What I yearn and search for? What drives me onwards?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
