Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god
I have stay-fresh insides
I inhale the rain
To cleanse my soul.
I want so badly
To believe
That I am real.
But I can walk
Through walls
And rational thought.
Perhaps I've already expired.
My lungs filling up
Not to keep me breathing,
But simply because it's so routine.
I manifest an image
Of how I should look
In this twisted afterlife,
Decayed and gray,
My heart in perfect form.
Everything else,
Unrecognizable.
.March.1.2009.
To cleanse my soul.
I want so badly
To believe
That I am real.
But I can walk
Through walls
And rational thought.
Perhaps I've already expired.
My lungs filling up
Not to keep me breathing,
But simply because it's so routine.
I manifest an image
Of how I should look
In this twisted afterlife,
Decayed and gray,
My heart in perfect form.
Everything else,
Unrecognizable.
.March.1.2009.
Comment On This Poem ---
I have stay-fresh insides
I have stay-fresh insides