Thursday, February 3, 2011

in my time of dyin'.

A sugar so sweet
I can taste it in the suite
in the highest of heights
from the depths of a crevasse
but what I can't understand
is whats clasped in these hands

But what I can't begin to mistake
with the bottles booze and instinct
the troubles lost in disillusionment
and all the troubles lost in disillusionment

so who the fuck will ever care?
I'll toss out all philosophy
take part in the irony
of pulling nothing from eternity

the sugary suites
we tasted divided
from the highest of heights
was never for the journey
was never for the journey's sake

but what I'm beginning to mistake
with all the bottles and syringes
all the troubles partaken in
with the struggles partaken in

so who the fuck will ever care?
I've tossed out all theology
taken part in causality
of forgetting my reality

the taste so neat
the damned brisk sweet
deaf to my tongue, deaf to my tone
not yet deaf to sight, not yet deaf to sight.

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Do tell my love, before the dawn of time passes. We insolent men, deaf to passes. Time ends all to soon. Departure comes shattering on in, the glass castle rests simply upon dirty foundations of tormented souls. Indeed the times shall be changn', but don't be bankn' on it. Sober up all in due time, the glimmer and shimmer we see is polished by moonlight. Our city changes by the second anyhow. We made it up by passing train, flowing blood pumping lusts of our souls. Diminished relics of old, simply laid to waste.

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My post from oneword.com today.

"Wrench."
It was a despicable wrench of the situation. All in which we never knew and it was indeed all that I loathed and hated within myself. the simple effort to fix the things, to change things, to need to know more and more to the effort of humanity. To weep at my own grave before I was ever dead. I weep for everything and nothing all at the same time.

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