Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god
The kind of special that gets you a seat on the short bus
Nothing is same.
The difference is, like
Pinpricks
Of heated pain in my side,
Telling me to stand down.
Instead I march forward,
With little to no direction
Because, I'm special like that.
The voices are maddening
When they aren't inaudible.
They are loud when they finally
Come into a crisper light,
When the veil has thinned
A bit more.
They are (always)
Screaming and seldom calm.
They are always grasping
Onto something, some shred
Of a former life that
Ended with solemn contrition.
Better the silence to grow from
Distinct anger rather than
Total adoration.
They come to me because, I'm special.
I thought I told you...
How will you learn?
July 5, 2007
Suge
The difference is, like
Pinpricks
Of heated pain in my side,
Telling me to stand down.
Instead I march forward,
With little to no direction
Because, I'm special like that.
The voices are maddening
When they aren't inaudible.
They are loud when they finally
Come into a crisper light,
When the veil has thinned
A bit more.
They are (always)
Screaming and seldom calm.
They are always grasping
Onto something, some shred
Of a former life that
Ended with solemn contrition.
Better the silence to grow from
Distinct anger rather than
Total adoration.
They come to me because, I'm special.
I thought I told you...
How will you learn?
July 5, 2007
Suge
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The kind of special that gets you a seat on the short bus
The kind of special that gets you a seat on the short bus