He Takes it in His Hand, and....

And I pass the man with all the answers. He knows absolutely everything. He told me so. He lights his cigar and waves it brilliantly before me. Then, he sends it to the ground. Ashes we all become.

God's busy doing business things with other busy business people. They're trying to get back in the Garden again. But those flaming swords seems to introduce a minor problem. They never stop. They're always levitating, rotating, blocking entrance. Always. Perpetual motion.

And in my sin I look up and pray to the sky, and there I behold all I ever had wished to know. Every bird struck down in midflight through the fiery sky. Every cloud punctured like worn material. The damage of age dealt in an instant. And everyone around me blessed with fire. They appear to be so innocent as they sink to their knees and cry out for mercy to the omnipotent heavens raining judgment. I wish I could be like them. I wish I could catch the spirit of the flame....I do.

In my skin I see the way. My Tao. It's in grooves. It's in everyone, everywhere. Weaving in and out, past follicles. Imperfections. Scars. Wounds that time could never really heal. It's nice to know the fire could light the path. And maybe then I could see where my feet should tread....along my own skin. Such a delicate process. It's nice to know the fire could scorch the hairs into nothing....smooth the way. Makes everything so much simpler....But it always leaves its mark. And once again, I can never forget.

He kept it from us. So, I had no other choice.

I burned the Garden. It's in ashes now.

Left the man with all the knowledge in its center, and ran away laughing into the night. I watched the sky turn black just before the heavens painted themselves richly with life and vibrance. Transcended us, our state, and changed to red. Just before it all came down, and the world was ripe with destruction.

And in my sin, my imperfection, I had to question why I was never to be allowed access there again. If we can't have it, then no one can. I'll send everything into oblivion.

75% Screaming, 15% Singing, the Rest is a Tragedy

Matchbook this romance
I'll get the gasoline
And you can gather the pieces
As the walls and ceiling converge
Then "Come a bit closer, and I will hand you a shovel to dig yourself out."
All I ask is you give it back when you're done

Truth Speaker

Tell me what I'm supposed to be
Because you could never tell yourself

Tell me what I'm supposed to see

In this crumpled paper cut-out of a figurine

Tell me everything you want me to hear

Because I'm no longer listening

So, why don't you go on and tell me what you're really thinking?

You Don't Have to Take the Advice

"Consider this a sign."

It felt good to confess all my fears and feelings
My sins and innermost secrets
We laid all pretense aside
And there was nothing left but bare soul
And I've never felt so naked, so powerless in all my life

I never knew there was so much of me my skin could hide

Pepsi on the Side

A boy used to play, used to stay here. Used to roam freely here. I wonder if he's gone away, too. I wonder what ever made him stay. I really used to worry about him.

He tells me about how to start a family. I tell him about how to preheat the oven to 450 and throw that bitch in and incinerate her. I really do still worry about him....He tells me she reminds him of a girl he used to know. Thankfully, I cannot say the same.

I really wish I could explain this feeling, but even if I could, I don't believe I'd want to.

"Make me feel again. Slide across my skin again. Let me uncover you to rediscover you. And I will open up if you promise to give in."

And I make my smooth transitions. Out of drive into reverse and back again. There's something mechanical, automated in the actions we take. Something so seductive. The way your fingers glide so precisely across the keyboard makes me want to vomit out my soul. These spidery motions seem all too natural, and I have to wonder where the line is drawn and where we cease to exist....except virtually, of course. These human beings are dying again. They're simply not listening again.

And the splash of Corona washes over my tongue. A taste I cannot stand. I take mine with a side of Pepsi to cover up the taste.

.

.

.

.

I take my tears with a side of pain to cover up their intent.

"I would leave it all so far behind just to be with you today. So make me feel again. Feel your every breath again. Nevermind everyone. There's only me and you."