Day 7, Part Eins [Yang]
(It's gonna be a yin-yang sort of day)
Sometimes the pessimist wins the wrestling match
i'll regain hold after a much needed
System cleansing, you see
(clickclick.deleted.)
please excuse me while i briefly empty the waste basket that becomes me
After the 4th time the bird shit hit me,
I realized the universe was laughing gleefully
and then- a 5th time in my food for good measure
What is this cerebral madness?
Only the fittest seeds survive
Seems today I'm digging a grave
for the traditionalist protection of your resurrection
(leave me, complacency)
a long trench across the Great Divide
Washing the dishes in the first of two rotting sinks,
since the last no-good never-enough canyon popped its load on me..
while the windstealing feeling is familiar, it has been awhile
i'm burning bridges and building skyrise condos destined for destruction
(just for you: choking on the vile need for SUCCEED)
the human condition condescension of your well intentioned smile
you'll say i'm grasping straws
Shredded by strange city street lines
Press my face up against the glass
with both eyelids shut and no, this won't get any easier
shitbrown irises are blistered, bruised with guilt, the creeping vines
are crawling upwards towards consume. Grass,
but not the pretty pale thin sticked kind
(his favorite)
no, I'm rolling down a hill of St. Augustine hell,
the person I feel I should be the ugly roots
that screech up from the foundation of earth
wrapping tight to trap and suffocate me
(a father's words like late night crackhead hauntings,
the face-to-gravel grind of reality is anything but Victorian,
a bit off chunk of romantic notions)
I am jack's deformed disillusioned definition of security,
sighting them shape shifting
dissolve into the darkness
a final opinion is of less value than an appreciation of
intolerance for obscurity
a weakness lies in the bottomless well of indecision. discretion,
(leave me, sickness)
the peak of weak is a dried up favorite creek,
a longing for the caress of waters that perhaps never belonged
brushing aside in discontent the minuscule signs of life
i wish i had energy to feel weak. one day again
grown in wide open spaces
we turn ourselves inside out
expose what we're afraid to see
and i know what he's thinking
i told myself
you keep pulling
an ice storm threatens the leaves
fluttering in the horizon, i refuse to climb these metaphorical bullshit money trees
preference to remain the weakest link
one single phone call.
now grown up a tad more, more petrified i think.
it takes the posioned cake,
take it all
(It's gonna be a yin-yang sort of day)
Sometimes the pessimist wins the wrestling match
i'll regain hold after a much needed
System cleansing, you see
(clickclick.deleted.)
please excuse me while i briefly empty the waste basket that becomes me
After the 4th time the bird shit hit me,
I realized the universe was laughing gleefully
and then- a 5th time in my food for good measure
What is this cerebral madness?
Only the fittest seeds survive
Seems today I'm digging a grave
for the traditionalist protection of your resurrection
(leave me, complacency)
a long trench across the Great Divide
Washing the dishes in the first of two rotting sinks,
since the last no-good never-enough canyon popped its load on me..
while the windstealing feeling is familiar, it has been awhile
i'm burning bridges and building skyrise condos destined for destruction
(just for you: choking on the vile need for SUCCEED)
the human condition condescension of your well intentioned smile
you'll say i'm grasping straws
Shredded by strange city street lines
Press my face up against the glass
with both eyelids shut and no, this won't get any easier
shitbrown irises are blistered, bruised with guilt, the creeping vines
are crawling upwards towards consume. Grass,
but not the pretty pale thin sticked kind
(his favorite)
no, I'm rolling down a hill of St. Augustine hell,
the person I feel I should be the ugly roots
that screech up from the foundation of earth
wrapping tight to trap and suffocate me
(a father's words like late night crackhead hauntings,
the face-to-gravel grind of reality is anything but Victorian,
a bit off chunk of romantic notions)
I am jack's deformed disillusioned definition of security,
sighting them shape shifting
dissolve into the darkness
a final opinion is of less value than an appreciation of
intolerance for obscurity
a weakness lies in the bottomless well of indecision. discretion,
(leave me, sickness)
the peak of weak is a dried up favorite creek,
a longing for the caress of waters that perhaps never belonged
brushing aside in discontent the minuscule signs of life
i wish i had energy to feel weak. one day again
grown in wide open spaces
we turn ourselves inside out
expose what we're afraid to see
and i know what he's thinking
i told myself
you keep pulling
an ice storm threatens the leaves
fluttering in the horizon, i refuse to climb these metaphorical bullshit money trees
preference to remain the weakest link
one single phone call.
now grown up a tad more, more petrified i think.
it takes the posioned cake,
take it all
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