clown doll of life
who always seems to stand back
up after a decent thrashing.
As I write these words, from my heart,
you are already bleeding, and I can
already see a brand new start that’s not
so fleeting..
But a start to what?
As, all women are completely lost, just
like you.
So, that start is a world of travel
away. And there’s just no point in
asking for directions to nowhere.
Reckoning
As
I clipped my finger nail,
at
4:30 in traffic,
little
did I know,
by
5:30,
my
heart would be bleeding,
from
to someone whom I would
be
speaking,
as
she mercilessly cut
my
heart of flesh
out
of my chest,
with
words, I duress,
because
I shared with her a
silly
notion, that her Sister,
I
was deeply in love with.
I
got the usual, I was called
a
sick stalker,
and
a pervert
and
a loser.
I
was told I was so co dependant
and
a fool,
and
I didn’t know her as a person,
and
as the well inside, felt the
tide
begin to rise to cry,
I
apologized for interrupting
and
simply asked,
What
harm have I done?
To
anyone.
By
being willing to be tool,
by
having some sort of human hope,
by
saying something that
there
is such a world full
of
worse to someone to say.
For
being able to want to
envision
a future with a person,
of
reach out for happiness and love,
in
being proud to claim the other
as
each our very own.
Why
in this world, in this air ocean
of
taint and black, that has become
the
human psyche of cause and
affect
towards one another, why
is
it so outlaw, so criminal, to
say
you love someone,
and
dare to hope for it to be
returned?
Funny,
I have been told, that
you
are not in love, when the
other
doesn’t ratify the contract,
or
reflect the favor or sign the
deed
of.
But,
when two people meet,
no
matter how, and one has
the
feelings and the heart,
to
open the window to the
soul
and share that secret,
standing
there, exposed,
hoping
for acceptance,
asking
to be forgiven
of
their shortcomings ,
eyes
closed because of
fear
of rejection,
quivering
and shaking
due
to fears of the past,
must
the final blow be –
to
be ridiculed?
and
mocked,
and
scorned,
and
insulted,
must
the final action be
to
ask forgiveness
from
having any feelings
at
all?
Must
being in love, always
feel
like being hit by a truck?
with
spiked tires, and a belly
of
flames under the transmission?
Yeah,
I now, these are my ever
stupid
comparisons.
And, I know, no one is listening.
She don’t care
To her, I’m just a working stiff,
a lament,
a fool.
Maybe she’s seen things happen
and on a grandeur scale,
that’s why my just words fail,
and she doesn’t care.
No matter how hard I try to
impress, she’s got bigger and
better fighting for her dress,
of which, I may only get to
hold when it comes flying
off of her.
So, what am I doing? A yipping
puppy, clamoring at her feet,
as big horny dogs sniff around
for play.
She don’t care about me,
She don’t see me,
She don’t need me.
As she swims the ocean without
a paddle or land in sight.
Even if I sweat blood,
it would be a laugh,
had a stroke? A bigger joke,
or fell of the signature of the
universe into the silent abyss
of blackness.
She don’t give a fuck,
shades of her house are
drawn,
and to her, so am I, just a wire
frame of hollow existence
and pointless rhetoric speak.
You expected me somewhere to
say Geek?
You so typical, a moral
mother fucking reader.
No wonder why I’m the
writer, and you’re out
to dinner.
Funny, she don’t care,
she’s probably sitting
right next to you.
I
have nothing to offer her –
So she has nothing to say.
I have nothing to give her,
So she has nothing to gain.
I
have no ladder to elevate her,
No rope to pick her up.
So, in her mind, with me,
she would only seem to drop.
So, there is no conversation, only
hard silence and an ice cold
who always seems to stand back
up after a decent thrashing.
As I write these words, from my heart,
you are already bleeding, and I can
already see a brand new start that’s not
so fleeting..
But a start to what?
As, all women are completely lost, just
like you.
So, that start is a world of travel
away. And there’s just no point in
asking for directions to nowhere.
Reckoning
As
I clipped my finger nail,
at
4:30 in traffic,
little
did I know,
by
5:30,
my
heart would be bleeding,
from
to someone whom I would
be
speaking,
as
she mercilessly cut
my
heart of flesh
out
of my chest,
with
words, I duress,
because
I shared with her a
silly
notion, that her Sister,
I
was deeply in love with.
I
got the usual, I was called
a
sick stalker,
and
a pervert
and
a loser.
I
was told I was so co dependant
and
a fool,
and
I didn’t know her as a person,
and
as the well inside, felt the
tide
begin to rise to cry,
I
apologized for interrupting
and
simply asked,
What
harm have I done?
To
anyone.
By
being willing to be tool,
by
having some sort of human hope,
by
saying something that
there
is such a world full
of
worse to someone to say.
For
being able to want to
envision
a future with a person,
of
reach out for happiness and love,
in
being proud to claim the other
as
each our very own.
Why
in this world, in this air ocean
of
taint and black, that has become
the
human psyche of cause and
affect
towards one another, why
is
it so outlaw, so criminal, to
say
you love someone,
and
dare to hope for it to be
returned?
Funny,
I have been told, that
you
are not in love, when the
other
doesn’t ratify the contract,
or
reflect the favor or sign the
deed
of.
But,
when two people meet,
no
matter how, and one has
the
feelings and the heart,
to
open the window to the
soul
and share that secret,
standing
there, exposed,
hoping
for acceptance,
asking
to be forgiven
of
their shortcomings ,
eyes
closed because of
fear
of rejection,
quivering
and shaking
due
to fears of the past,
must
the final blow be –
to
be ridiculed?
and
mocked,
and
scorned,
and
insulted,
must
the final action be
to
ask forgiveness
from
having any feelings
at
all?
Must
being in love, always
feel
like being hit by a truck?
with
spiked tires, and a belly
of
flames under the transmission?
Yeah,
I now, these are my ever
stupid
comparisons.
And, I know, no one is listening.
She don’t care
To her, I’m just a working stiff,
a lament,
a fool.
Maybe she’s seen things happen
and on a grandeur scale,
that’s why my just words fail,
and she doesn’t care.
No matter how hard I try to
impress, she’s got bigger and
better fighting for her dress,
of which, I may only get to
hold when it comes flying
off of her.
So, what am I doing? A yipping
puppy, clamoring at her feet,
as big horny dogs sniff around
for play.
She don’t care about me,
She don’t see me,
She don’t need me.
As she swims the ocean without
a paddle or land in sight.
Even if I sweat blood,
it would be a laugh,
had a stroke? A bigger joke,
or fell of the signature of the
universe into the silent abyss
of blackness.
She don’t give a fuck,
shades of her house are
drawn,
and to her, so am I, just a wire
frame of hollow existence
and pointless rhetoric speak.
You expected me somewhere to
say Geek?
You so typical, a moral
mother fucking reader.
No wonder why I’m the
writer, and you’re out
to dinner.
Funny, she don’t care,
she’s probably sitting
right next to you.
I
have nothing to offer her –
So she has nothing to say.
I have nothing to give her,
So she has nothing to gain.
I
have no ladder to elevate her,
No rope to pick her up.
So, in her mind, with me,
she would only seem to drop.
So, there is no conversation, only
hard silence and an ice cold
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