Monday, September 26, 2005


is it so hard for people to see
the person inside that is really me
i realize i may seem unworthy of sympathy
i ask not that of you
but maybe some
friendship that won’t make me sick
with the bullshit infallacies it commits
false commitments
being here
and being there
when really
you aren’t anywhere but
with yourself

self-help that reflects the feelings felt
of involvement and preoccupation
with the one and only
it must be just me
that is not satisfied
with the idea of
at the hands of selfish time

fuck that
fuck this
i’m done with the bullshit
that encrypts my brain
leaves it
sharp pains sharp pains
damaged by the worry of other people’s plans and
of other people’s well-beings
more often than not
it is only them they are seeing
bleeding bleeding bleeding
objects in the mirror are closer than they appear
i fear that
the world will soon collapse in itself
you and i
can’t find the time
to extend help to others who have felt
the pain that we feel
the stress that we have
i’m so glad
that there is someplace beyond this

all of these
human misfits
cause me to rip shit
i lay awake at night
hoping and praying
wishing and gazing
in the sky
for a flicker of light
that will give me more direction
on civilization’s plight

how trite
to think
that all there is is what meets the eye
i spy more
than you’ve ever bothered to figure
it was quicker
to assume the best
instead of realizing
that the demeanor of you friend
is not as clean as you would have liked in the end

nauseous nights
leave room for thinking
how long until i can be swept from this polluted ship sinking
heavy with
egos and agendas
please put an end to
my journey on the titanic of troubled tricks
i am told
i think too much
i worry more than i should
but when i am no longer here
to think and worry
i wonder if that will do anyone any good

it’s easier said than done
before you judge
think before you speak
you may never know what you are dealing with at the other end
blank, bleak eyes
waiting for a positive surprise
may be also eagerly seeking a speedy demise
comprised of
fast-paced, no delay, sways away
from the bustle of this place
waiting, “will someone just get rid of me?”
can’t everyone just exhibit a little more sensitivity?

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