ache
Posted: June 7th, 2006, 10:43 am
desire
displays itself in a window
amsterdamn
a place i had always wanted to go
but afraid i would not surrvive the abundance of toxic ingedients
decided that canada was a better vacation spot
In the mirror
i see
you
the person that has been following my every move
noticing
the lines in my face
the child like fantasies still brewing
in the places only I can see
today i wanted to be anybody
else
i cried and told the world "you are my treehouse"
when isolation and story telling had ceased to matter
when the truth was
feeling that way
had made me an endangered species
confession and tears
are good for the soul
in particular
when you are not religious
rather in a spiritual and innocent manner
let it rip
gushing out like child birth
like an orgasmic flow of treason to the ego
i let it loose
i found reception and love
just before that experience
a man kissed me
a man I barely knew
i felt him
although he kissed rather well
i thought he was a stranger
to himself
that he sought his skin thru me
I have two portfolios to finish tonight
some drawings
i dont have time to hump a stranger
takes rather than gives
a fortune cookie reads
"you will have a string of good luck"
all in a day
feeling so fucked
or un-
perhaps desire is all dressed up to elude me
to distinguish where I will stand on this red road
the dust is wiped from my face
the textures rubbed from the streets
the color s of my brushes
drained from my sheets
i sleep in a way that is more like passing out
went to the gym
bones creaking this morning
the cat lays in my lap
warming my feet
muscles sending out a warning
the day calls me to its rushed manner
i have nothing to offer this outlandish clamor
i wash the day off from before
out the door i go once again to adore
the flavor the color the scent
all of my energies severely spent
displays itself in a window
amsterdamn
a place i had always wanted to go
but afraid i would not surrvive the abundance of toxic ingedients
decided that canada was a better vacation spot
In the mirror
i see
you
the person that has been following my every move
noticing
the lines in my face
the child like fantasies still brewing
in the places only I can see
today i wanted to be anybody
else
i cried and told the world "you are my treehouse"
when isolation and story telling had ceased to matter
when the truth was
feeling that way
had made me an endangered species
confession and tears
are good for the soul
in particular
when you are not religious
rather in a spiritual and innocent manner
let it rip
gushing out like child birth
like an orgasmic flow of treason to the ego
i let it loose
i found reception and love
just before that experience
a man kissed me
a man I barely knew
i felt him
although he kissed rather well
i thought he was a stranger
to himself
that he sought his skin thru me
I have two portfolios to finish tonight
some drawings
i dont have time to hump a stranger
takes rather than gives
a fortune cookie reads
"you will have a string of good luck"
all in a day
feeling so fucked
or un-
perhaps desire is all dressed up to elude me
to distinguish where I will stand on this red road
the dust is wiped from my face
the textures rubbed from the streets
the color s of my brushes
drained from my sheets
i sleep in a way that is more like passing out
went to the gym
bones creaking this morning
the cat lays in my lap
warming my feet
muscles sending out a warning
the day calls me to its rushed manner
i have nothing to offer this outlandish clamor
i wash the day off from before
out the door i go once again to adore
the flavor the color the scent
all of my energies severely spent
