My body for my soul.
Little else to say,
‘cept truth; whole.
A good friend of mine told me that
They said I could not come in
Without hate and greed,
And something called original sin.
With one accomplishment out of millions
The game took on a whole new face,
A distractingly new point of view.
Boredom truly had past with fury,
Pride, and self-appeasal,
Yet who really looked at the night anyway?
We all just drive faster,
And I wonder who will out last her,
Procrastinate her just enough,
Act rough, just enough for that final stomp of misery.
One o’clock etches its mark closer
Yet nothing changes,
We forget about the afterglow
While too busy searching for the next fuse,
We just have to be part of the next explosion,
The next cultural self implosion…
and all the ones with forty six
smooth running cylinders can do is ask why,
why are they so guttural and loud for that bad idea,
why a constant monitoring of your own paranoia,
why do you drag us down with you?
They laugh and change the subject,
Queer sighs and looks are exchanged.
What happened to the point of besides ourselves,
So boring and hard to reach,
Yet so everything.
So lovely like that beautiful, beautiful girl.
The forever straw that keeps my back from breaking,
Far beyond capacity,
Far beyond the normal bounds of reason.
Love for an acquaintance keeps the vessel going,
Realizing that there will probably
Never ever be any kind of back up.
Yet the truth mixes so intently with the love
And there is something so mysterious about the female.
She told me experience was the key,
But that it was as intoxicating as any other drug,
And I knew that she wasn’t talking about sex,
And so she intrigued me.