1. the sky is a beautiful february pink the same color as your casket each time this time of year rolls around it makes me stop and think about how hearts are couches covered up in plastic CH and i don’t know if i can keep going i just keep wondering what the wind feels like what the wind feels like when it stops blowing 2. my lungs are a dutiful pulmonary pink the same color of your cheeks in the last hours each time this time of year rolls around it makes me stop and think about how lungs are vases watering wilting flowers CH
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i've had enough of you i've had enough of you i sure wish your mouth came with some glue cause i've had enough of you it's not what you say but the way that you state it it's not what you serve up but the way that you plate it i'm already fed up 'fore i see the menu yes i've had enough of you you're like a book i can't read you're like a book i can't read the day i put you down was the day i was freed yeah you're like a book i can't read each word so much worse than the last i curse every page and skim past all this stuff, it's just fluff, a marshmallow stampede yeah you're like a book i can't read i concur with your scorn for my cynical ways it's a lazy and boring disguise but the soapbox you stand on takes up too much space and it's taking a toll on the roll on my eyes when that idiot wind starts to blow when that idiot wind starts to blow i always take it as my cue to go when that idiot wind starts to blow i don't like to watch when the emperor streaks or the way that the breath of a bragging man reeks i'm covering my eyes i'm plugging my nose when that idiot wind starts to blow yeah, i always take it as my cue to go when that idiot wind starts to blow is it a wall, is it a well, is it a building or a bridge? sometimes it’s hard for me to tell what fucking structure even is is it a snake in the grass, is it a flower in the weeds? what does it take, what does it ask, what does it give, what does it need? what even is life? just a place to live and die find someone to love and say goodbye? what even is life? call me godless, call me faithless, call me a sinner, call me brainless call me devil, call me rival, point to pages in your bible preach of gold up in the heavens, warn of flames that burn in hell go ahead, pretend to be an expert on shit you don’t know so well what even is life? just a car you don’t know how to drive and you’ll never make it out alive? what even is life? is it kind of arbitrary but a little bit on purpose? time is precious and it’s scary but it’s make-believe and worthless are we ignorant, are we brilliant, are we fixed or are we fluid? are we floating on forever, are we rotting where we’re rooted? what even is life? just a place that we call home live together and die alone? what even is life? if i wore all the bells, if i blew all the whistles
if i drew the parallels, if i called my officials would you want me? would you want me? if i cashed a bigger check, if i cooked a better dinner if i slept more or less, if i went to bed a winner would you want me? would you want me? if i lost all the weight, if i started medication if i stopped to meditate, if i understood creation would you want me? would you want me? so you're not speaking, you don't like the way your voice quakes but you're teaching your children with every sound that you don't make so you're not marching, you don't like it when your feet ache but your children are watching every step that you don't take it's not good enough to leave well enough alone they got weapons of war, we got pens, shoes, and microphones do you love enough to not leave well enough alone? so you're not giving, you don't really have a dime to spare but your children are invested in a future that you won't share so you're not searching, you'd rather play your trump card but your children are hurting with every fact that you disregard i feel unshakeable sadness i feel unbreakable guilt everybody’s just sitting on their axis it’s just the way my axis tilts i think a lot about life i think a lot about death everybody’s trying to do what’s right with the life that they got left won’t you tell me what would you rather be the careless chaff or the worried wheat i’m losing my sense of direction i’m losing my will to proceed done running for reelection im ready to concede who am I to call this hurting who am I to be afraid sometimes your blessing is a burden sometimes a feather is a weight when you're the worried wheat i will get on the saddle i hope this horse can swim right now i don't even want to paddle i’ll be better in the morning i find myself crossing a pair of my fingers could it be a wish or a lie is it oncoming peace or despair that lingers in each breath of a chest-heaving sigh the tremors that shake me after the quake break me down cause they signify that last little shift in a continent drift the moment the end just passes you by why does the whiplash hurt more than the impact? the ache in your head makes you realize the glass cracked life flashed through your eyes, but you're alive, still if the crash doesn't get you the whiplash will the sight of your nose throws me back in my chair i only knew noses could smell jumped geronimo style from way up in the air it might have been brave, but i'm still scared as hell the parachute pull has rattled my skull i fumble for ways to propel will gravity greet the ground with my feet it usually does, but you never can tell the scarlet letter's getting redder the fingers are a-waggin' the allegory in this story's got me feeling bilbo baggins fighting feably to defeat fucking firebreathing dragons seeking proof in fiction cause the truth has turned to fractions it's what the people need one deceptive dimension stab it til it bleeds or no one will pay attention give 'em what they want, a filthy little spectacle a crucible is suitable, only when the noose is full of someone else's neck the mockingbird won't say a word but you keep trying to kill it the conviction in your diction grabs my will and tries to steal it but i'll push my pen into your brain, my tongue behind it strong the ink won't sink in just a blink it takes time to write a wrong *co-written with Veronica May
the synapse fails to connect i thought i was being direct hope is slowly dying but confusion's ever-growing the neurons fire away receptors aren't willing to play what's the use in trying always feels as though i'm throwing words against the wall you're not hearing them at all now there's something that you are missing words against the wall you're not hearing them at all all i need was for you to listen the brain and the heart won't shake hands i never know where my arrow lands days into years, you're reaping what you're sowing i look in the mirror and i see you genetic's pathetic attempt to show proof am i ringing in your ears always feels as though i'm throwing
everyone’s putting on their mittens and gloves
but we’re still holding hands cause we’re smitten with love everyone’s bundled up for a day in the snow but we’re just staying warm underneath the mistletoe who needs warmer weather with you and me together honey i will never be cold who needs warmer weather i’ve got you to hold everyone’s huddled round the fire to feel the heat but we’re still laying in bed cause you’re warming up my feet everyone’s wrapping both hands around their coffee mug but we’re all tied up in a cozy Christmas hug |
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