Wednesday, June 1, 2011

a soothing metaphor

looking for bittersweet resolution
to something that never began
i entered into the palace of the traitor to make wine
which i drank for the taste
though it left me hot with rage
seeking someone to help me in all the wrong ways
losing respect for those
who lack the corruption of my daydreams
sinking in and lashing out
in and out
in and out
the motion of the confused, the damned
as i create
another soothing metaphor for my behaviour
a way to make myself make sense
and pretend that no-one's been used
or that all we do is use each other
every person, every day
so it's okay

i could always deprive myself to depravity
so the next time you see me
i'm sucking needles through a straw
just to see if you'd pretend it's only water
and every time my mind screamed
i'd throw blame at you
little needle ice cubes you could pretend did not exist
take another sip and repeat
over and over until you couldn't take anymore
but never would you try to understand
i'm just part of your collection of lost souls
you use me just as i use you
but i'm the one left unsatisfied


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