January 2011
3 posts
This is not my life. What I am living, the body I posses, it is not mine. I am an amalgamation of perceptions, I am the image of which others perceive me. I do not own their visions, I do not power their hearts, in their eyes is where I exist. The mirror has no thoughts, the mirror knows nothing of emotion, the mirror is a lie. Imagine a world without mirrors, strip your mind of the fallacy known...
Stuck under a ceiling of stucko I see windows, I see space This ain’t no opportunity bucko You had it all It went to waste
Stuck between a couch cushion I bleed blue, yea I bleed too Keep on truckin keep on pushin You want it all Just a little taste I feel sick, waiting for the drip I feel sick, lost within the trip I feel sick, waiting for the drip I feel sick, lost within the trip
Lived so long so long been afraid Thought I died of boredom But I couldn’t find my grave Spent a lot of time hating everything in sight Can no longer face the day Can no longer fight the night Gave a lot of advice, made comments some insightful I showed up, well most of the time I just said I would What will they think of me, I know it can’t be good If they won’t accept me...