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
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
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
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
Haunted minds
and a revolving door
inside and out
to smoke
And in this smog
we birthed
A song
That couldn’t be heard
and this is our pain
all lines blurred
no one to listen to us go
no one to see our scream
as we fall
Into another nightmares dream
Beneath the cover of a tree
finding sanctuary
Watching the world pass by me
A blanket of rain pouring down
A reminder of the cycle of clouds
The birds will tell you
when someone or something
is around the corner
If only you’d listen.
Owl light paints shadow
the blackbird sings his days last song
The last lights raucous tongues
clicking, chirping and squawking
‘come along, come along!’
rousing one another to their roosts
Knowing that the night is an animal
the wolfs eye lit in the sky
creeping up through the bustling throngs
An apocalypse reflected on our faces.
Beads of sweat dripping down
Or are they tears we haven’t wept
Yet?
We glow like cigarettes
being smoked down to the last
Sharpening our bayonets
Fighting for remnants of the past
An orange glow
Lit us up
No time to turn on back.
We are carpenters in a crumbling house.
For full transparency the title and last line is inspired by a reply to a post on Quora
