Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god


Work me in your dreams,
While you lay there in legions
Of regret, every day just
Another bender, you're tender
Towards sanctity and revelations
Only lead you blind with fevers.
There is never in your hands
And travel in your eyes,
But my hands are holding
Myself up, my eyes are turning
Black and I'll slack my jaw
To teach you a lesson
You will never learn.
I burn, frustration has taken
Over and suddenly,
It's two years ago again
And I have to fight
Just to talk to you without
You running off into the
Nothingness that addiction has
Given you, too true is your
Heart but honesty has
No place in those chambers
And arteries and the idea of
Pleasure runs through your viens.
Oh dear, my honest-to-god
Opinion has no home in your
Ears, you see it as ridicule,
But I've named it worry.
I don't pity you so much as I
Am concerned for your
Scantily clad whereabouts.
I had a shot at telling you what
I really thought; instead I hid in a corner.

December 23, 2007

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