Shut up buttercup and lay in the grass
We’ll watch the Jays fly past
his blue feathers not so covert
the king of the oaks
Watch him fly
and gleam all that he knows
His dinosaurian voice
And moustachioed wisdom
calling to us
the harshness of reality
as we lay back on fields of yellow
soft beneath our skin
yielding to our unrelenting bodies
in this monstrous
yet wondrous world
I am disintegrating
almost ready
to sink this ship
Trying to anchor myself
for the sake of others
Self help books
sell ghosts
to haunt your head
falsely lead
to expectations
of something better, further ahead
All these ideals
and narratives
We need to shed
yet letting go is so hard
when you’ve been sold the ethereal
beatitudinem the golden ghost
to which you could apparently become host
but, or so I’ve been told
happiness lives only in our heads
I’m too small
to contain this
Shits about to blow
I tried to tell you this
but I fail to communicate
when all this shit accumulates
and each piece never goes away
so I’ll be stuck with this every day
and then more on top
It’s just the way
my brain is wired
Don’t know why
all these feelings that ebb and flow
they’re all painful
no respite
empty full
nothing and everything
I want a lobotomy
so tired
this is the trend
in my brain and it won’t end
Hands touch a heart
to save a life
without questioning if it’s right
Frankenstein
creating a monster
for survivals sake
Without morals
This freakish medicine
used when death would be better
The pain accelerates
no stepping back, no brakes
heart and lungs deflate
no words can translate
this suffering and hate
it’s just inside
aggravate
agitate
I’ve had these wounds so long
They’re antiquated
so I keep it all bottled up
it’s the same old, same old
and I know what comes
The accusations are sung
‘You don’t wanna try’
‘you can’t let go’
I can’t let go
I don’t know
Any other feeling
but this gaping fucking hole
deep inside of me
the abyss swallowed me
long ago
there was never anything
that could be left of me
cause I was never ever whole
As the despair sets in
it’s not that I want to die
but that I wish I could turn back time
and never have been born
then dying wouldn’t need to be done
and my corpse that will contaminate this world
would never have to become poison
It’s funny isn’t it that people say they understand or can empathise with you.
Funny because I don’t understand myself so how the fuck can you?
We were a fever in the night
kissing our wild hearts goodbye
Imprisoning ourselves into the prisms of ghosts
in the hopes we could drift like smoke
up to the stars in the sky
Our gaunt faces leave us behind
Irises reflecting goodbye
The speed of life dilating eyes
a blank space where sparks should alight
tired and harried by all this accumulation of sight
Yearning something simple
but nothing yet to delight
A numbness setting into the lungs
