Drama shots in to the vein of life.
Electric hot to remind you that you're still alive.
Anger makes your heart beat hard-
and heart beats are the base of life.
Same reason why we fuck we fight.
Harsh words and harsh breaths, I'm not shortening my life span.
I'm just living more now than later.
Has it been long enough? The silence and the stillness?
Has the lack of movement let the vulture eyes wander from this,
My dramatic, verbally bloated metaphorical corpse.
The hands chase each other around the face,
Across the darkness as in, when hands chased each other along your skin.
But as the revolutions roll past,
The tiny hand beating with the pulse beneath it,
The finger tips forget the feel, the eyes forget the sight.
Memory clouds and I'm left wondering what you really look like.
I'm angered by some around me now-
Their lies are so clear you could sell them as window panes.
Its not the lying so much that makes me angry, more the fact that they aren't good at it.
It's a lack of respect I guess.
If you're going to take me, make the ride a good one.
Guess I'll have to chase, to get whats mine.
I find myself preparing now as for a surgery,
white rooms and fasting. Avoid the things that put me here.
I've got my special plans for when I come out.
A change of diet, my own particular appetite was hurting me.
I'll keep consuming, but in the future only the more healthy morsels.
And oh me oh my I feel I've found one.
This is just a catch up, a taste of what I'm doing now.
But just to brag, let's say I might be able to make myself happy soon.
And oh, from the most unlikely source.
;-)
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