Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god

10:14am on Friday

I was a child once, dreaming the unrealistic
And hoping to grow into a phenomena.
Now, I am nothing but an empty shell.
I wish to fill myself with any kind of meaning
But it all slips away from me, leaving me
Staring out the window, hands opened as though the
Gifts I'd someday hoped to receive had
Slipped and fallen from my grasp.
I fill my barren head with words that mean nothing.
The hours of silence, I fill with music that I relate to
But it doesn't pertain to me at all.
The constant in my life is that I would jump out
The window and fly if my wings hadn't been clipped,
Rendering me a useless bird who can only scuttle to and fro.
I get lost in the smell of deceit,
But it's okay because I can be a liar now and pretend away
The rage and fury within me, instead of reasoning with it.
The lights are on and everyone's home,
But I'm trying to check out early.

11-18-11


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10:14am on Friday

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