Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god

Reach Around

His eyes only appear
In my darkest dreams,
Suggesting that I'm in
Need of a hero.
I dream of a truly
Privileged life, one that
Exists in my head.
And people get confused
When they see me mad
At a life I cannot change.
But his eyes,
So soft in my dreams,
Pick me up and they know.
And it scares me.
And I love it.
Every twisted second,
When he's compiling thought and I
Develope ways to reach around
And pull himself to me,
What a dream,
I can even feel him come,
His entrance in a room
Peels away my skin,
Melts my open-book face
Until he is stepping on it
As he walks towards me to see
What is on the inside.
It started with his eyes,
Then this disease
Cut through my spine and
No longer can I walk.
He carries me,
But only I know the destination.
He'll dump me in the darkest pit of hell,
And jump in to save me.
I will swear to god I hate him,
While only god knows I love him,
And all the angels with their
Blackened wings
Will spray operatic lust songs
Into the air, our fanfare,
We'll just cut ourselves to pieces
And hope that we do better in
The next lifetime.

December 20, 2008

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Reach Around

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