Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god
Eyes Closed
My eyes closed,
I study the darkness
That my eyes produce.
Gleaming images and spots
Sending messages to my brain.
On a table somewhere
Sits a candle with a green flame.
I knock it to the ground,
Wax spilling and drying instantly,
Capturing my footsteps
As I walk across it.
Straight head, it seems,
In the wrong direction.
I am still here,
Watching the backs of my eyelids.
Seeing my own created darkness.
Where I am
Most comfortable.
October 19, 2004
Suge
I study the darkness
That my eyes produce.
Gleaming images and spots
Sending messages to my brain.
On a table somewhere
Sits a candle with a green flame.
I knock it to the ground,
Wax spilling and drying instantly,
Capturing my footsteps
As I walk across it.
Straight head, it seems,
In the wrong direction.
I am still here,
Watching the backs of my eyelids.
Seeing my own created darkness.
Where I am
Most comfortable.
October 19, 2004
Suge
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Eyes Closed
Eyes Closed
