Just Like the Movies

Hi, my name is ______________________ and I try to be as nice as possible to everybody. Sometimes I succeed and most of the time I do not but I'm guessing it's the effort that counts so I'm not too worried about my soul. I hold back a lot and half the time- well, more than half - I am not at all myself. Being myself is a rather high set bar, as I have no idea who I actually am. Sometimes I try to be witty and end up offending various people, mostly guys, who don't seem to take well to that sort of thing. Usually they say mean things to me and then I insult them more and curse at them in my head and vent through poetry and then I cry because I was always taught that if you're nice to everyone and you're smart and independent then the world would be in the palm of your hand but it's really not like that at all. You can tell that I really like a movie if I'm eating my popcorn at lightning speed. Yesterday an 96 year old man read me an Emily Dickinson poem and then gave me amazing advice on life. When I tried to reply he couldn't hear me. I do really like my life a lot in general but I really feel like there's something missing. And I am not a flirt and I don't want to be.
Thank you for your time

Disfigurement

They figured out that if you put the lamp too close to the ceiling,
the house could burn.
And the soap-shiny skin in the sink is feeling like maybe it will nver be clean
because secrets can't be fought by chemistry
Or anything, really.
The only way you can get rid of a secret is by telling it
The soap won't help.
They figured out that if you make the supports better, you can have bigger windows.
Let in more light. Talk to the birds. Smell the air. Watch the rain. See the rain when there is no rain. Hear the thunder. By this time the windows have gotten quite large..
They can see more of the world, and if they don't like it, they can jump
If the lamp does cause the fire, they have an option.
"If we waited 90 days I could get it to happen, definitely."
Fake. You disgust me.
I just want another Arabian subcontinent conversation.
Parachutes couldn't save me then and I didn't really care.
The ground was far enough away.
What if we're all falling?
We are all falling.
The choices we make increase our speed, or slow us down. Some times they bring the ground closer.
And when we fall faster or fall back we meet other people we wouldn't have otherwise. If you want to find your other half, make every choice.
Of course, you will probably hit the ground sooner, I guess.
But what the hell. To the organized mind, death is just another great adventure.

Astounded

My mouth--
It's like all of my
words that went unsaid were just
wrung out and all
that was left was my
saliva, bittersweet and
milky
Fermenting in my stomach walls
It stings so much I need to shout--
clogging up my airways and I
cough and cough but they
won't
come
out

Criss Cross

Sometimes the strength it takes to hold a gaze
Rivals that of any strenuous;;
activity.
Yes, fear
dominates pain.
violet sky
swirls above and a thousand things could go
wrong
dignity and life
o
ppo
sites.
yes violet sky
swirls above and the lightning strikes
all around us
when will it hit
?
==charged
Billions of paths crisscross in
the air invisible but you can
hear them if you look closely enough at the
interlocking
eyes
And sometimes I feel like my path is all alone like
everyone else has
yes voilet sky
eye
lightning
tar and also
there was a cloud
but--
the lock is the
key

Instrumental

when best attack turns greatest foe


flickering eyes downcast
when everything you think you know

fast; now; or; go
slips out of reach slips
down
too
\low

<>>>

blue consumes all it finds
That is when the fire lights.

Elevator

Hidden tears slip away down
the rock facade
as I climb
but it's too slippery.
I will fall.

Synopsis

Stairs wrap around the mindset of the
Moment, Big stairs that are forever like stars the day was
a chalky red even though the sky was gray. And the woman
was a box and there was another
boy who has eyes like a shotgun and they both
smiled and walked away the
only
ones in the city that day

therearewaytoomanyfrickinpoemsaboutyouonthisblogandineedtogetovermyself

Through the week
It was a knife
stabbing slowly in and out
attempting to slow the beating of my heart, sawing
it in two, but only pretending to because I didn't even know. Still don't.
Through the month, it was fine, I was
Fine I was
Silly I thought it was through
But now it's two down, one to go, full count and
I don't think I
Can take the
Pressure
Especially since
the worst
part of this
irony is that
it was true every word of the song and the poem and it really is true there is a climax violent delights have violent ends leaves become most beautiful when they're about to die nothing gold can stay october was full of tears and rain and wan't it ironic that i left out august

Lightning is a quick flash resulting in unexciting ashes

Break sharp
through tar
hate bitter
turs in-
to nothing at all >hum< when
you repeat
it too much
the seasons change so fast sometimes
you know for a while it will be soup and snowpeople but after a week we'll be like dude where the hell did all the leaves go

The Versitality of Metal

Gone like the covers
Now everyone's cold
Gone like the curtains
Now the light is blinding
Gone like the butter
Tasteless
Like
A
Bird
chained
to
a
birdcage
even
if
the
door
is
open
he
will
never
ever
be
free