Thursday, October 13, 2005

What's it about? I don't remember, its twelve thirty at night, and I was just asleep.
Its one in the morning, and I just want to say, if you get a text from me at twelve thirty at night, do us both a favor and don't call me. Texting me back is cool, I have no problems with that since I can totally ignore that, but calling me back? That draws my ire.

Boils my blood.

Whatever. So now here I am. That's my only real thought, just felt like sharing that.

Its like the time
when it was night and you were there
and I was there.
And there seemed to be no care
not a worry or anxiety in the world.
Just you and me and boy and a girl.
And as we stared at the stars,
heavenly bodies intertwined like ours,
I realized I could reach up and touch them.
I pulled down the sky and wrapped you in it,
just so that for those seconds, that minute,
the lovely met the divine,
and I thought it must be a sign,
a sign that love is what it should be.
Love is sometimes what we can see
and sometimes what we feel,
and it all seemed surreal
and yet so real
I could touch you both, again. . .


Some call me unstable. I call them stable. They don't take that as an insult.

Darkness clouds this plane we live in
death comes for those who wait
and if you die tomorrow
no would care enough to cry
or would they?
would you're funeral be filled
with hypocrites who want your wife
who doesn't want the finer things in life
your casket is pine or mahogany
five years from now its wormwood
you know when you don't smell good
from dirt we came to dirt we return
ashes sprinkled out at sea
so little kids can go to the beach
and get a little taste of me
he couldn't swim in this life
so he never rented a boat
now that he's dead
he's learned how to float
it may seem morbid
obese or whatever and something
but if you die its really nothing
the dead know of nothing
not good at poker
but can you tell now if he's bluffing?
the only time he's got a royal flush
is when he becomes some maggots lunch
irony irony irony irony irony
that's what this is
how dare i sit here and make fun of the stiff
think they'll hear think they'll be missed?
of course they just might come back
and then what?
could you welcome them back?
they've been sleep forever
that's some serious morning breath
do they need scope or listerine
a few minutes in the latrine?
wouldn't that be a scene?
alright i'm done

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