What makes you want to be another person? Assume the precise loco motions? Generate the sparks by selling the cells? In the end not to have a life at all? The actor thinks it's all a joke. The laughters & tears can last in films. But we are not the same, I'm in a different place. Maybe another time, I will remember the name. To act in order to be, makes yourself nice & cheap. All the puppets have strings, one day they will end up a messy heap. But what other ways to live?
Category: poem
To My Bitch Boss.
You trying to kill me? Bossing me like I'm your secretary? Your bottom bitch? Coming down a ton of bricks? No warning nor a friendly reprieve? It's all up to me, huh? Well, I'm telling you to wait. The good times are looking vague. You know what I'm saying? Yeh, you better walk away. You think you are grade A? Well, I have seen you shiver at the first sigh of hard labor. "Tough" ain't in your vocabulary, so step out of my way. And shield your eyes, your fairy land's built on the slaughter lane. Hey, don't hate the player, you ain't even in the game. High morals & low dresses, you dizzy yet? Of course not. Who you're looking at but your brand new bitch boss?
I want to die..
I want to die wondering what tomorrow brings, observing the crystalized moments form a complete palette, and finally, the perfect freedom to create a life that's more real than it's ever been.
Meisner.
Under the surface, it's all tears. I have to protect it, like a reserve. Without it, I will be empty, and anyone can see what's underneath: anger, despair & malice, probably. I don't really know, didn't really care. But it won't be pretty. Nothing really is.
To Those Who Should be Happy.
Oh, can't you see the sun when a hard decision's made and a gut-wrenching deed is done? Would you celebrate it or let the doubts eat you away? There's never a single line, but a feeling you're on the right track & something's different this time. More to lose & not caring what is to gain. One train leaves without you & it's still a happy day.
The Missing.
I know it will end in black, but now it's alright. Tired of looking back, every two steps, for new angles of attack. "Not good enough," a corner to hide. Never face myself, don't know what's left. A miracle, being alive. What's missing is the crime.
Don’t Run Away.
It's hard, no? When you had enough & ready to call it quits. Where you're down on your knees to pray, throwing pride away. Don't you know it's good for you, get lost in a brand new space. Don't run away, now, ageless voices are cheering you on. Make yourself the guide & them your witness, through winter comes spring. When you're at your lowest, know that you are never alone, feel the warmth. It's your chance at living, like those that came before, make them proud. Don't run away, now, it's your gravest self saying, "Don't run away."
Love Poem to My Bed #2.
Oh, God, my bed, I'm so in love with you. Please don't leave me. I will keep you warm. I will do "any thing". I will rub against you until it's time for a wash. We can have a three-some with the pillow, no body will ever know. I will crumble you up like a feathery hill, then wear you down like a melting marshmallow. Please don't go, I know it's noon. I put a sleepy spell on you.
Shorter.
I'm most aware when I'm half asleep. That's when the two worlds meet. The sound from the mind does go out & create, then greets the ears a wonderful clink. For the moment, a dream is not a dream.
Short.
Walking on the edge, until you do you will never see the other side. What a joke to be wise. To pretend there's an answer to life.
hotsurf_ 