|
By coujeaux Date: 2004 Jan 25 Comment on this Work [[2004.01.25.13.03.11613]] |
|
In the darkness, sit; soak up solitary just a bit, though he's accompanied, can't ever be alone, Burnglow of another cigarette, a bad habit not easy to forget, the only one he does on his own. Minutes melt into memory, unpleasant blur; substitute tonight thinking of her, oh no, not again, Is there moment gone by you're still not asking why nothing remains of what could have been? You preach what you live, can't forget what you can't forgive; a hardhearted, softtouching shell, For whatever wisdom you possess, everything you say is but a guess, and you estimate so well. So I peel back the skin, at last, and invite you all within; observations into this scrapheap wraith, One can see right through the iridescent Superman tattoo; an iconoclast begging for sips of faith. Each breath is a measured sigh as I live my life shifting high; an apathetic turbocharged scream, Pretty possibility, slam on the brakes, outlasting her is what it takes, merrily merrily but a dream. See a handsome, jaded writer celebrate another all-nighter then pass out deathgripping his booze, Pick your poison, Socrates; down your throat or on her knees, it's all fodder for the evening news. Ah, lush has been a stock in trade, if it's wet you want premium grade, nothing but the best indeed, Worn your heart on the sleeve whose arm instructed her to leave once you got whatever you need. Atypical by so many counts seems everything in insane amounts, from head to toe you drain it dry, Come end of the day you're just another getaway from the realities of others afraid to say goodbye. So don't you hang no hopes on me, 'cause I'll love you so then cut you free; that's really all I know, When I beg you to stay, not with me but far away, let that be what you take of me wherever you go. |