for our fates are woven into our traits
and desire can only adhere for so long.
The moon remains unbloodied
while the soil drinks us back into our true homes.
Whether or not we're to agree that meaning survives
outside the realm of our suppositions,
no key might ever be forged that could open our minds
wide enough to tell the difference.
Each night we taste eternity.
Tomorrow is a lie.
I remember a time in my young life when I frequently felt like the ideal future path of humanity would usher in togetherness, harmonious homeostasis, and compassion.
Now, with the help of some perspective, I am just beginning to see that there is no secret pocket of untapped virtue within the vast majority of us. The living eat the dead and the collective voice of my people is turned in on itself rather than belting out some angelic exaltation to the heavens of our potential for social cohesion.
I see that it is ignorant to look past the shackles and into the eyes, or at least it is certainly not the just thing to do.
It's hard for me now to conceptualize the world I would like to live in, for this world confuses me and has disenfranchised and distorted my connection to the unifying spirit of shared hope that I once sought with confidence.
In time here
it seems clear
that you should
open your heart.
It's true that
there's more... that you could do
to make truth
when you do your part.
Put out your arms and let us in x2
The true embrace
will seek no names
only a guide
between the flames.
Turn to your kin
as arms extend.
You know that you... must let us in. (for this medicine)
Worshipping this entropy
Letting you wash over me
Until we share the air we breathe.
There is a time and place
but please make sure you reach out
Respect, the virtue we believe
its not too late to give and to recieve.
Put out your arms and let us in x2
i've been pent up like you've never seen before
Living in an incubator, so warm in here
and the cold world outside moves more quickly
Propped up by these tawdry goals and nothing else
while the rest of me consumes the worlds away
My cheeks are the cushions all carefully placed
before the show goes on just outside of my view
family got a little smaller
and my house lost a friend
Erik i didnt know a damn thing about you
and now its gone
i dont know how to feel
except to say that it is horrifying
to think of the situation of how you were found,
and to consider a life extinguished...
one day later i am greeted home
by the glowing but dead eyes
of a feline acquaintance
i had so enjoyed.
The pool of blood
is still drying out front.
It won't change the core
It doesn't teach a person to be better
Toxic sludge pumping through my veins
Love is a weakness
It is a comfort that distracts from true progress
Fuck me and my broken hearts
all the way inside, this could be the best tonight,
this could be the best to-
with your hands over your eyes
welcome to your life
You were always on my mind
this time, we dont have to run, we can stay awhile
and smile half the time
this time, we can comprehend that its all been done again.
oh i can never end
where you're open again
flashing slivers of lip
and all the while
with a thirst
to pleasure away
where its never enough
and the stakes are all odd
and the need is calling
that follows the good fortune
of having this time to heal
There is no connection to preserve
other than the tendril attaching
this soul to the earth
This circumstance is conducive to a greater worship
that would see me standing tall, wings outstretched
in an unmistakable exaltation towards today
in efforts to conjure the totems of a satisfied existence
that may be waiting patiently along my path ahead.
the words that i will speak and write from here on out
will form the framework of the life i must possess
the emotions that dwell behind me
have done me no service
and must be released
Here I am, sweet supple world of chaotic wonderment
It is I, a strange traveler, seeking madness
like the juice pouring from the corners of your lips
seeks it's way to the dirt below
What next kindred spirit might sing in harmony
outside the courtyard of my time
I beckon you in,
so that you might nudge me
closer to that which i've sought
We shall marry our arms
in the sort of congregation that
only we could ever follow
pregnant with chaos
apparently logic is flammable
nothing could calm it
chilling sense of no return
our affections could not survive
i am grateful for the others
sex and attention can distract the pain
and get me far enough away
now there's a chance for healing
even when it gets lonely
better this than living a lie
in a soft pack of whys
like the glimmer of dawn
that lived deep in her eyes
Much better my heart
silenced facing the rest
than a quivering mind
and a long-spoken chest
She had always been gone
something fleeting and wrong
She had always been gone
to a fanciful place
to the eye, inner peace
spoken truth, inner hate
My body is old
with a definite wish
of a keep holding back
if a falling amiss
as my fingers find those precious keys that sing in harmony,
eyes closed, mind adrift,
in this darkened respite at the edge of some distant festivity
I remember the electric sense of reverberation
and my skin prickled and hair stood on end;
it was as though my body and mind had found
some predestined pathway to nirvana
in those intuitive intervals and notes
played for no one but my self.
plunked into shallow water that somehow cushions my vulgar impact
i belong to this creek now as i am washed away
until there is a light with an ominous context
i reach out with my voice and the light is extinguished as a form emerges from the shadows behind
as all inertia has taken form if only to creep me the fuck out
as i am flung into consciousness by some figment in my sleep
the world is chauvinistic
and wants to dominate my smile
tiny golden glimpses between the fence
to validate something different
yet its all bullshit
just a distracting hopeless lunge down
im not that way,
or at least i dont know how to be
at least i'm lucky enough
to suffer only discomfort and confusion
there are lives and lines
that carve much deeper into such pain
each request left little to the imagination.
She had always been too quick, too brash
for him to keep up on any level she would allow;
and here it was,
drawn out for him on the mental equivalent of yellow snow,
the tumor-ridden husk of a once sanguine attraction
lying doubled over at the threshold of this tiny house.
She was free now
to chase the bigger and the better,
as her pleas had been fulfilled
by his total evacuation from
any shared plane of interaction.
He had forfeited the whole world to abscond,
even if it had been more her style
to participate in this mass delusion most call life.