I always felt like a lesser deity due to my ability to ramble on incoherently about absolutely nothing for pages and pages with conviction and certainty that something about what I was saying would make something make sense to me, or make something right, or easier. It would mark out my idealism into proper behavior and morals that people would respect and revere. It would figure something out for me, maybe, or draw into alignment some way to tell someone something I had to say. Or had to have them know, or do, or something. Yeah, something like that. Something, someone, sometime, someway.

A lesser deity, yeah. A tiny god, with a tiny bible and a spare few disciples.

And a Judas.

Yes, my Judas who will usurp like Henry IV, and my Christ who will die for my sins and no one else’s, and my lions and my lambs.

I kind of like talking about all that like I’m some hot shit, I guess. With how often I say “god only knows” it’s sort of funny that I could be a megalomaniac and be saying “I only know” like I know everything or something. Aha. Yeah, arrogant. Me. That’s a laugh.

Just typing for pages and pages like it would mark out my idealism into proper behavior and morals that people would respect and revere
_and would have them stop making fun of me or underestimating what I can do
It would figure something out for me, maybe
_maybe
Or draw into alignment someway to tell someone
_a super special sunshine someone
Something I had to say
_Didjukno? I love you. And I can never stop.
Or had to have them know
_You can’t fake it like this for years. I can’t do it for days.
or do
_come back
or something
_anything

Yeah. Something like that.

I’m out there
I’m out there somewhere
In my own patch of simplicity
I’m not thinking
I’m not thinking of you
No I’m not thinking of us, not of us,
I’m me, that’s all
And I’m not afraid,
Not afraid of almost anything
No, I’m not thinking at all.

I’ve found peace
I’m in zen
I’m not scared of saying
Something wrong to my friends
I’m sound asleep
In a wave of relapse
I’ll kiss who I want to
In dead silence, I will dance

I’m back here
I’m back here, and out front,
I’m singing aloud, not proud
I’m not happy
I’m not happy anymore
No, I’m not happy, not like this
I’m me, that’s all,
And I have stuck myself
Stuck myself in a horrible place
No, I’m not happy like this

I’ve found peace
I’m in zen
I’m not scared of cutting through
And forcing an abrupt end
I’m sound asleep
In a waking life
I’ve found what I need
On the other side of my strife

And when I’ve reached the end of my self induced complex
I’ll be sure to break at the ends once more
Because I’ll never be happy in the arms of anyone
And I’ll dream of going back to before
One thing I’ll tell you, my friend in the pages I’ve bound
I’m not sure where I’m going
But I’m sure of where I’ll stop, I think sometime I’ll try
Although there’s no way of knowing
My mistakes began before I ever even met you
My mistakes in the form of ‘undone’
Yes, I was a fool to ever have stopped in ‘polite’
It has brought me to a defiant ‘one’

I’ve found peace
I’m in zen
I’m all by myself
And that is how I will end
I’m sound asleep
And I’ll stay there now
Alone and unwavering
Please do not question how.

Yes I already need you
My bright barbing stead
A half years coursed
A life lived in bed
Four moments of life
Three words of your sort
Two times we have crossed
One ship in it’s port

I’m sure I’m sure I’m sure
You don’t even know
My dependance on you
My mind’s dying throes
I’m sure I’m sure I’m sure
I’ve already lost
My final chance course
My mind’s highest cost

Strawberry Heart
Green Metal Lifestyle
Not even the floor
Has such hard eyes

Once in time
I’ve wanted yours
soft lined coating
hard lined life

So much power
in such a small hit
and ever still
I can’t draw your colors
I can’t draw your face

Someone once asked
It’s not important that you know
Just that I know better
than to repeat history

Not even the floor
Has such hard eyes
and such a soft jaw

Only small time in
And you bring me home still
Disaffected mick look
How you hurt my pride

Same as all the rest
And Same thing every time
Crushed Green Cotton
On a Cream Faux Wool

17 Minutes
On a Plastic Folding Table
I only wonder
What it will feel like
When I finally touch you

Not even the concrete floor
Has such cold air
Not even the concrete floor
Has such hard eyes

Not even my own
Has so many words
I know so little
of what more I can say

I do not know your face
To draw you out
in it’s stead
I know better to
Feel displaced
Hold out for words
Instaid of actions
A strained continuum
Of tight black jeans
and late night coffees

Things you are my parallel to
Safely tucked away
Be careful my dear friend
You might end up in this dream of mine

I was told not to quote them on this, but a friend of mine may have used the term “perfection in imperfection” pertaining to me.

Just saying.

Get the hell off my poetry blog. You know who you are. :I

Pardon my time possibly lost on answering this, but I believe not. Never quite held the Beatles close to me except for a stint in school when I thought it’d be cool to be a Lennon fanfag.

Still think the imagine peace tower in Iceland is cool though.

Real fear is getting too close
It’s knowing how you smell,
What color your eyes are,
And why I haven’t asked,
And why you stand like that
It’s wondering where you get your clothes
and wondering if you’d like
like to know where I get mine

Being scared is something like
getting every word and notion
color, look and motion
ruined for you,
taken from you,
made something sad,
something painful

And letting go is too hard,
Because it’s all you have left,
It’s all you’ve got to remember

Feeling afraid is that constant feeling
Like you might run out of things about yourself
Things that make people want to stay
Like witty quips and
Adorable slips and
The feeling you’re on the decline
The feeling you’re turning to grime
The feeling the paint’s flaking off
And you’ll be 2.50 at the next sale
Eaten by moths,
Your major function to fail.

True Terror is not being okay,
Not being alright,
Not being content with what
must
be
And being brought words
Every
day
being pumped full of placidity
gradually folding away your past
and forced to abandon desire
In providence of becoming another liar
Stifle the truth
Strangle the trust
Demolish the connection
Dispose of the comfort

And letting go is too hard,
Because it’s all you have left,
It’s all you’ve got to remember

And being safe
And being happy
In this life seems too much
And being together
And being sane
In this life seems too contrived
Too absurd.
In a world where happiness is a pressed stamp
A blessing of assimilation
Into either the norm, or the acceptance
That otherwise you’re not,
You’re just not.

And love is nothing more than a curse
Love is nothing more than a curse
Love is nothing more than a curse
Love is nothing more than a curse

But letting go is too hard.

You are my newest problem
What sends me spinning
What keeps me in,
in bed, all day,
Asking my friends
“It is okay?”
And they say, no one’s complaining,
No one’s complaining.

You are my new muse
Keeping me in the bathroom,
with my phone,
Staring myself down
Waiting for you to call me back
Bring me back
Take me back to a place called
called

No one’s complaining, no one.

You are my stinging sensation
You hit me straight in my pride
You’re like a blast of mace
Right into my eyes
And sometimes I can’t look away
I can’t look away.

You are what makes me think
about how bad I really am
where people can’t possibly know
on the walls I stain
even if only in my head
you are what makes me wonder why
No one’s complaining
Why is no one complaining?

I wanna be andy
I wanna write another song
I wanna be unknown
I wanna be someone half way there
I wanna not know how
Wanna not know why things happen this way
I wanna be andy
I wanna fight my growing contempt

I wanna be famous
I wanna make a masterpiece
I don’t want to be forgotten
I wanna make a masterpiece
I wanna be reviered by the downtrotten
I wanna be Banksy
I wanna be a deviant deralict

I wanna be Matt
I wanna prove everyone wrong
I wanna be you, but better
I wanna sing all of your songs
I wanna be a stage force
And I’ll never touch a beer
Never do anything other than my best
I wanna be the drummer
I wanna be quietly important.

Cord done spiraled down
Hit the carpet in an end
An end like any other

Please leave your message
After the tone
I’m warning you now,
Yes, I’m warning you now.

My day to day is what I’ve found
Day in, day out again,
Again I steal

Please leave your message
after the tone
I’m warning you now,
I’m warning you now.