The Only Things I Hate More Then Myself is Your Smile (But Other Then That I Think I'm Starting to Like You)
You, you said I was too imature
My music collection too
Was it so hard to see the difference
The smiles and the lies
The long burning day
The soft frozen night
To see the difference of a life
Building a world of our own
The differences it made
The days we live
The nights we lie
Could you look past yourself to see the light,
to see this day and its last dying ray,
to feel and embrace the sight of what
could only be said to be today?
** ** **
Distance is More
Our distance is the everything
We don't know what could be
But by dark light
Luminous times
We move in sync
One tempo
One love
Day by day
Night in night
We take that step closer
Love
** ** **
Small Words
Some things may be spoken
Others rhymed
Half breath statements barely alive
Some things can be said
Others must be emphasized
Bold words largely revised
A breath of air in the dark
Large falsehoods painted in red
Embolden by their vulgar stark
What, a plea outside for the inward dead?
Acting so free with that life,
Casting about with those looks so trite
Affection never rang so true
Except by words you said
This pride could be said
Vernacular demised
But some things are better left unsaid
At least until they are screamed
** ** **
Just To You
Grey Clouds.
Hazy Rain.
Distant Melancholia.
The desire to tell you everything else,
the thoughts working in my mind
that have been my whole life.
Nothing you say has meaning
Outside of the lies
The broken promise of yesteryear
The feeling inside your mind
Exposed in broken tubes
Spilling red fires
I wish I could say good bye to saying goodbye
But your memory never leaves me
It haunts my dreams and my waking breath
That you are ever a part of me
But That i was just a part of you
On and on in dreams
Ever will never be
On and on in dreams
Love can't always see
To light the path
To always be
** ** **
Of Pearls and Swine
Throwing these pearls to swine,
stomping and eating this trash you vomit.
Finely ordered trash on which we dine
The stench, the sweat, the pain indeed
The look of your grin
Makes me so sick within
God save me from this Hell we're in.
Every second of this wasted life
Mucking about in our trash
We vomit Your name in excess
Wasted like a crashed metaphor
Swine eating
Swine spinning
Swine defacing
Feed up
Eat down
Swing about
Swing in
Sing out
Swine wasting
Swine tasing
Swine debasing
All within
Vomit out and reject in
Hate all you never seen,
within the outside
The lies we spin
so we sleep at night
With fire we burn within
Stoked by our ego
Kept by fading youth
Malicious we grin
As we feast on our kin
Pearls to swine
Nothing left to loose
Every game we played we played back for you
Every knife in every back
The knots we twist into lies
The rotten stench of death
Breeding the swarming flies
God save me from this Hell we're in
Every wasted trite attempt at life
Mucking about in out trash
We vomit up your name in excess
Wasted like our final metephor
** ** **
Hmph
I cannot pretend to know this word.
Inklings of a life past flow in expanse.
Speechless.
Breathless.
Embrace.
The yawing, the gaping expression.
An expanse, the border of existence.
You are mindful now, if you ever were.
Nothing said, nothing will.
Goodbye.
** ** **
Juxtaposition
"Sometimes I feel like I don't know
Sometimes I feel like checking out
I wanna get it wrong
Can't always be strong
And love it won't be long"
-U2, "Ultraviolet (Light My Way)"
There are so many indescribable thoughts in my mind that are described in that short verse. There are so many pounding, pulsating, raging, screaming thoughts desperately trying to escape from my mind at any given time. There are so many of these thoughts and so little that I can honestly do with them.
So much of myself is intermingled with the mask I wear around people. A lot of the time I am not sure about who I really am, where the persona and my soul end and begin. It is almost like I have lost sight of who I am, who this 'Matt' is, who 'Ninten' is, who any of these people, persons and things are.
Where do my real feelings begin? What do I feel? Why do I have all of these incredibly confusing impulses that make next to no sense?
I would much rather run free of this inhibitions, to be free of what feels like dead weight...to allow whoever it is that I am to be freed to exist.
It is more then just confusion about who I am, what I am...it is confusion over my being, my action, my reaction...similar to the discussions over if a person is made by their actions or if they make their actions because of who they are. Ultimately it is a dichotomy which cannot be separated.
Black and White.
Male and Female.
Night and Day
End and Beginning
So many opposites and necessary contradictions. There has to be a level of tension for life to proceed at any sense of pace. We are not allowed to set the parameters for life and existence but if we pay attention, if we look close enough then we can see so much more then we could ever know otherwise.
Juxtaposition.
God, unless you enjoy seeing someone tortured with their inability to express themselves, let me scream this song that has been building for years. Give me an outlet and an expression to vent. Look at me, listen to me and hold me with my tears.
Watch the blood and water intermingle and become one, close as we were, close as we might never be again.
Hold me closer then a breath, keep me beside.
Love me when I am grateful, know me when I forget.
Show me what I know and the pain I fight to forget.
Love me when I'm dry and distant.
Show me a mirror while I deride your name.
Let me see the hypocrisy that knows no bounds, just as much as I see Your love with no end.
Nothing I say will stand up, all will fall back into the mists of eternity.
Except your love.
The bedrock, the beginning, the end.
The only cornerstone, the one rejected because of self adulterated hate.
Be still my heart.
The pulsating fraction.
Blood flowing free within and without.
My love for you.
Never to recognize any of these,
just a burning feeling.
The desolate cold of knowing.
Shattered in thought.
Pulsate with life.
Wake, burn.
The words we speak to calm our sin.
Preach flowery words of hate to hide,
the lust, the pride all locked within.
Forget, forgive all for one side.
Comfort, confront all in one sense.
Thoughts, passionless, fruitless endeavors for self.
An orgy of self adulterated adoration.
Meaningless pleasure intermingled with an equally worthless rational.
Corrupted, busted, filtered, brokered self.
Buying and selling integrity with our esteem.
Bottomed out worthless trash of thought.
Skin upon skin upon sin upon that mindless grin without the taste,
the subtle hint of the irony possessed with a phony.
** ** **
Soul on Fire
Seven things to say
Several things to show
The broken and the poor
The fool’s old way
Seven things to say
The same broken way
Blood stained glass
Trickles of hope washed in red
A broken and bloody stain on your soul
You let the smile fade as you remember regret
Even with the past holding on your soul
Never look back
Never give back what you have
The bastardized child within not wanting to see
Daring you not to feel any, anymore
A litter not born
A few. Just a few more
The lies we embrace
To lend self adore
The unborn blood spilled
The defenseless cut open
Letting us get our feel
The need to be our gods
To play and deface all in our way
See us weep it out TV
The defenseless mindless automaton
Our greatest contribution is apathy
Our greatest kindness is how often
We kill each other out of glee
No laugh, no plea
We embrace death as an escape
To hide the mistake of our hate
Self emollition of the soul
The nerve it grates
Ripping across raw nerves
Shockwaves of our own decadence
Rotten treats and simple feats
** ** **
No Word Free
There are no words free that i may use to describe everythign you are, all that you are and all that you will be.
Words fall short and actions fail to render true meaning to one like you.
Your name unspeakable, your my eyes can never meet your gaze, to be in your mere shadow causes me to stumble.
In few words you are beyond perfection, you are one beyond my imagination.
** ** **
-At Long Last A Song Without the E Chord
-Zombie Express Train
-Music of the Brain Dead
-It's Not That I'm Critical As Much As You Suffer From Bad Tastes
-A Suit A Tie, The Key Isn't the Point
-Of Elephants and Donkeys
-Bleeding Hearts, Broken Mines
-The Beginning's End
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