Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god
All of life is a big sh!t waiting to happen
I wonder what it's like for her to go to sleep at night
After that loss? I wonder how I would go to sleep at
Night after such a loss. Sometimes there is no sound
Except the running of thoughts that betray me back
And forth like it was some game. When she did return
I thought I would say something sympathetic but I
Only came up with a mouth full of cobwebs, hence I
Said nothing at all. I was going to give her compassionate
Glances but my eyes were too swollen with sadness
And no one could see through to what they were saying.
I was going to hug her, but human companionship just
Isn't what it used to be and some people don't like to
Be touched. I wrote her a poem and was even going to
Give it to her but, I think the message would have gotten
Misinterpreted and it might have just worsened the
Situation altogether. Instead I went into my office and
Just sat there with a handful of Kleenex saturated with
My tears, listening to the conversations of others pass
Through the open window. Instead of sitting here to
Myself, I'd rather have been talking with her, becoming
Her friend but I don't think things work like that in
This work environment. It's enough to make me scream
At the lack of affection that is sometimes manifested here.
And when I'm not screaming to god for some kind of
Change, I'm crying to myself, because yes, even demons
Have to cry out sometimes. Sometimes we have to shed
A tear and just let loose with a few choice words in order
To understand that heaven gave him to her, and it was his
Time to go Home again. I wonder what her prayers sound
Like. I, on the other hand, will admit to praying to no one.
I say my words, prayers if you want to call them that, and
Send them on the breeze, to see where they end up. They
Always just end up dead on someone's doorstep, that's
Just how far they are willing to go. Prayers are just not
What they used to be. I have my muses here in the work
Place. I still wonder what it's like for her to go to sleep
At night, and to awake in a mess of tortured loneliness.
I wonder what it feels like to be comparable to someone like me.
February 2, 2006
Suge
After that loss? I wonder how I would go to sleep at
Night after such a loss. Sometimes there is no sound
Except the running of thoughts that betray me back
And forth like it was some game. When she did return
I thought I would say something sympathetic but I
Only came up with a mouth full of cobwebs, hence I
Said nothing at all. I was going to give her compassionate
Glances but my eyes were too swollen with sadness
And no one could see through to what they were saying.
I was going to hug her, but human companionship just
Isn't what it used to be and some people don't like to
Be touched. I wrote her a poem and was even going to
Give it to her but, I think the message would have gotten
Misinterpreted and it might have just worsened the
Situation altogether. Instead I went into my office and
Just sat there with a handful of Kleenex saturated with
My tears, listening to the conversations of others pass
Through the open window. Instead of sitting here to
Myself, I'd rather have been talking with her, becoming
Her friend but I don't think things work like that in
This work environment. It's enough to make me scream
At the lack of affection that is sometimes manifested here.
And when I'm not screaming to god for some kind of
Change, I'm crying to myself, because yes, even demons
Have to cry out sometimes. Sometimes we have to shed
A tear and just let loose with a few choice words in order
To understand that heaven gave him to her, and it was his
Time to go Home again. I wonder what her prayers sound
Like. I, on the other hand, will admit to praying to no one.
I say my words, prayers if you want to call them that, and
Send them on the breeze, to see where they end up. They
Always just end up dead on someone's doorstep, that's
Just how far they are willing to go. Prayers are just not
What they used to be. I have my muses here in the work
Place. I still wonder what it's like for her to go to sleep
At night, and to awake in a mess of tortured loneliness.
I wonder what it feels like to be comparable to someone like me.
February 2, 2006
Suge
Comment On This Poem ---
All of life is a big sh!t waiting to happen
All of life is a big sh!t waiting to happen
