waltz for someone else
i beg you to stay but it won't stand in the way
of my lonely bed
and my empty head
so i pushed you away with things i did and didn't say
you stopped listening
anyway
will you hold my heart, held
by this one last thread?
the pride that i've swallowed, now deep inside
i can see
in your brown eyes
as you look to me and sincerely decline
i'll rephrase it
one more time
will you hold my heart, held
by this one last thread?
i beg you to stay but we're at the doorway
of my lonely bed
and my empty head
humility is my disguise tonight
keep me here
where my loneliness dies
will you hold my heart, held
by this one last thread?
an overcast day
some things,
always feel the same:
like the passage of time
after your hand drops from my side.
i need you
to slip off my ballet shoes.
as i sleep, pull me into you.
eyes open wide,
tears spill the sides.
breathe in and out with me again.
and,
if you have the chance take me for granted.
some things,
always feel the same:
like the water marked ceiling
after your words have lost their meaning.
i need you
to slip off my ballet shoes.
as i sleep, pull me into you.
eyes close down,
tears hit the ground.
breathe in and out with me again.
and,
if you have the chance take me for granted.
you’re a fire that can’t be contained
disguised as an overcast day
you’re a fire that can’t be contained
disguised as an overcast day
you’re a fire that can’t be contained
disguised as an overcast day
that's science!
x inactivation
the great youth mirage
as the 25th year of my existence comes to a close, i am forced to add a nightly application of anti-wrinkle cream to my face-washing/tooth-brushing routine and during those extra few minutes reflect on what has now become my full subscription to the lobotomized personality this nation has come to posess. over the past year i’ve watched at least one episode of each and every reality television show aired. which, as you might have noted from my earlier entries, is more television than i’ve been subjected to in the past 5 years. i’ve emerged a slightly less- intelligent person with one conclusion: the single most important value in this country today is youth. as my own deteriorates, i feel compelled to examine the underlying implications of this youth mirage the whole damn country is chasing after. several ideas have sprung: while i initially bashed this country with my holier than though baseball bat over the idea, i eventually came to my senses (probably while applying the wrinkle cream) and was forced to at least mull over my role in its propagation. the youth mirage has invaded all corners of our lives from billboards to tv screens to Friday nights at the local pub when you witness your boyfriend lusting after a girl half your age. my initial repulsion of the youth mirage (especially as it applies to women) is that youth is coincident with ignorance, inexperience, naive insecurity, and basically all the attributes that, when adopted by females, would put an end to the ever pungent reality that we are ultimately the stronger and more efficient sex. indeed if this nation can convince a mature, confident, strong woman that she should mold herself back into an 18 year old girl in order to maintain her attractiveness, it is basically telling her that everything she’s learned and experienced and built herself into is inconsequential and she will progress farther in this life if she can just remained innocent, uninspired, and undeveloped.
of course, here i am, still with all my insight applying the fucking cream!
so i delved a bit deeper into the phenomenon that has become the youth and wanna-be youths of this country. and here is what i’ve decided. all of the manipulations toward younger looking skin and hair (all along the subtle to drastic scale) are just cover up, a metaphor if you will, for what we are all really, desperately after.... that is, a life, a soul, a heart, and a body that remains beautiful, sweet, and generally unaffected by the horror and heartbreak that we’ve all come to face on a daily basis.
and to that, i say, “touche!” and “pass me my wrinkle cream!”
