Thursday, August 25, 2011
Rehash Back To The Blast
i'm calling you and i keep believing i'll hear you phone ringing outside my window - like you already knew. and i know, i keep my better side shut off when i hear the truth, but i know. everything will crumble and i'll sit by and let it. i've done it for a lifetime. i'm not even sure i regret it. i just look for people who love me, and i give away my flesh and my twisted love for the consolidated stuff before death. but when the bonds i form begin to swarm i can't see in any direction, and this isn't exactly as you mentioned. the explosions are slower and when you think they're stopping they're far from over. and there's way more people wearing plasic than you prepared me for. but it's okay, i move my lips but don't say anything so they think they're going crazy. one walked right up to me and told me he's shoveled shit long enough that he's getting out of this business quickly. if he could read lips he would have known i could tell from his expression he was deeply unhappy, and hasn't known progression. i was gonna blow my cover, tell him i knew, that its been a long time since i knew myself straight from birth. i wasn't blowing smoke up his crap either, i was stifled and looking for jesus - to show me how to identify the sordid souls from the glowing angels. how to deny distractions and maintain self-reliancy. i had been misplaced and i settled toward depression for my direction. a road map filled with swallows, and company that had been hallowed. and where i am now needs some work, but i'm willing. the destruction is nothing i never seen before, but always before i went running. i never stuck around to refurbish the lives i've littered with my self-destructive iniatives - i just level all they've built, watch the fall of it, take the next bus out of town, keep a steady head and never turn around.