Emotional Slag

She’s the reason I get up in the morning
She’s the reason I go to work
She’s the reason I put up with the pains of the world
It’s all for her
When she opens her heart
And places her hands on mine
I could stay in these arms all day

Foolish suburbanite longing for trust
Your smile bleeds as you peel your
Broken face off this path you created
Paved with the dreams and ground-up bones
Of those you stepped upon to get where you are
Apathy is a steamroller on this path you created
Look up and pay homage to your apathy

So, what’s the point of this?  Mostly, I’m looking for an outlet of various energies.  In real life, I’m actually a fairly normal person.  In order to maintain that balance, I have to do what I can to purge the negative energy.  I’m not nearly so dark of a person as my writing would suggest.  Anything happy or productive, I tend to carry around longer.  The dark and foolish, I jot down and let go free.

questions, thoughts, wonderings
what does it all mean?
how cliche
should i try?
what will come of it?
joy
pleasure
sorrow
heartbreak
people change
time moves on
new people enter the scene
the narrator becomes a player

what is love?
have i felt it?
will i feel it?
will i ever know?

love never works the way its supposed to
there is always someone in the way
when no one is in the way
i am in my own way

Can the Narrator be a player?
If the Narrator becomes a player
Who takes his place?
Should the Narrator Join
In the struggle of the players?
Who is the Narrator anyway?

A character is added
The Narrator is gone
No one knows what will happen next
How will the play go on
With no narrator to move it?

Apathy is my blanket
But it is thin
And I still shudder benieth it
-binks

they told me what i shouldn’t do
i listened good, i listened true
it’s not my fault, it isn’t fair
it should be me up over there
instead i lay here on my back
as all around me fades to black
a red light flashes just in sight
a mangled mass off to the right
a man leans down with coat of white
“he’ll never make it throught the night”

the narrator sees everything
the narrator knows everythong
the narrator can predict anything
the narrator is safe from all harm

many players look up to the narrator
they see him as a god
they continue their lives
as the narrator tells what happens

safe from all harm, the narrator stands
never involved in the conflict
the narrator is safe

the players continue their lives
the narrator stands in the corner
protected, isolated, alone

the players continue their lives
the narrator lies silent
fallen on the stage
slain with his own blade

choices…decisions
our lives are filled with choices
how does one decide
they may change the moment
they may change eternity
fuck it…i’ll work on it later

again you return
i thank thee
i can solve all your problems
just try me
eventually, you take me as your lover
never your wife
for though you love me
i will always hate you
you think you can control me
but i will not be controled
i will consume you
i will destroy you
not matter how much you hate me
you will always confide in me
i will kill you