Laughs and sighs
Smiles and cries
And all the filler in between
We dance like fools
Get worked over like tools
All in the hope of being seen
We shun all of this
We praise all of that
And we’d drink our own piss
If it helped trim the fat
Oh, this world, ain’t it mean?
Shedding mass in an all too dramatic frenzy.
These commendations are carrying more weight.
“You look really good!”
Well, at least they don’t think I’m on cocaine.
I’m way too docile for that.
Way too distant.
Just another tree stump on its way to a weathered reality.
Being relieved of its force and beauty.
Sitting quietly in the oh-so-vibrant woodland.
Waiting and withering.
And all I wanted was to shed this skin.
Plastering my face for all the interwebs to see.
Like a shameless televangelist buying up all the local channels time slots.
“Click! Watch! Share!”
“Check me out in this video!”
“Watch me and laugh!”
Watch me make an ass of myself.
Watch me create and manipulate insecurities for the sake of a few more views.
Watch the decline of my confidence.
I always thought I was made for this type of thing.
I also used to be quite virtuous with it.
But the days of the pre-pubescent superstar are long over.
And the curtain call is mostly forgotten.
Such an arrogant whoring of self.
Forcing my being down each and every one of your throats.
Shit you never asked for.
Spam mail.
An invitation to a wedding of people you don’t like.
Endless pictures of babies on Facebook.
A pile of someone else’s work.
I can’t tell if I ever even wanted the attention to begin with.
But here I am, begging all of you for it.
Begging you to watch me blather.
Begging to be heard.
Yeah, that’s it.
That’s what’s happening.
Just begging to be heard.
And saying all the wrong shit.
This floor isn’t comfortable.
None of them ever are.
But there I always am, down on the ground.
Sitting.
Laying.
Waiting.
Thinking.
Sleeping.
Sometimes I think about getting up.
But I’m not sure I know what’s going on up there anymore.
I don’t think I know folks the way I used to.
So, I’ll probably just stay parked here on this dirt.
Right where I’m comfortable.
I know I can’t get any lower.
I’m just glad I’m not face down.
There are corners of the human psyche you have yet to understand.
Emotions and loyalties you have yet to comprehend.
Being a good person is a tricky endeavor.
Sometimes that means setting your Holiness aside.
Forgetting exactly how proud of yourself you are.
There’s something very humble about a closed mouth.
Something very comforting.
And you can’t wonder why the bridge is burning once that trap is open.
All you can do is watch.
Repent.
Say a prayer that forgiveness has not forgotten your name.
They come in whispers
Silent screams that haunt my compassion in the same tune as the vexing of my heart
Everything I never cared to know
Flattered by the credence
Flattened by the burden
I don’t wish to be so mindful of these skeletons and their closets
I never did ask
I just feel like I have to listen
But I have my own demons to wrangle
And they’re persistent little fuckers
I don’t even have my own secrets anymore
This room is shoulder-to-shoulder
Pull back on the hammer already
Even if you don’t know what you’re mad at
Never stopped you before
Never will
But your grip ain’t tight enough right now
Is it my indifference?
Does it make you wonder?
“How could anyone be so prepared to burn?”
There’s a security in accepting the end
I’ve been prepared for a long while now
“Making Peace” if you will
But I’m still here and you’re still an idiot
I want you to do it
I want you to be sure of something
I want you to finish what you started
Take a stand on that peg leg of yours
Prove me wrong
Prove anything
Let’s get this over with
Pull that fucking trigger you fucking coward
Because if you don’t, you’ll be taking my place in Hell
They’re ready for me
And they’re getting a body one way or another
The Unicorn and the Warrior
Two pillars of fascination
Soaring
Destroying
And in the midst of the mischief in this hapless heart, the ne’er-do-well just watches
They’re so commanding
So sure
Apart in method, connected in potency
A bright smile and a cozy embrace
You don’t fight it, because you can’t
A dirty smirk and a frostbitten attitude
Get ready to fight, because you’re going to have to
Nothing in common
No paths to cross
East and West
Just two forces making their way through nature
Opposite sides of the roundabout
Round and round until they’re both through the layabout
The same one who built the rest stop
Just in case one of those motors couldn’t run anymore
Or maybe they wouldn’t want to
But he knows they’re too finely tuned for that
And he knows they’re far too driven
And he calls that rest stop home
And we tip-toe
Out of the tent
Into the street
Away from the circus
You are a clown
The pitiful kind
Not funny
Or scary
Just a turd
A cheap infomercial
A dog show with hairless cats
A waste of earnings
And dreams
A show nobody cares to see
So we tip-toe
Away from this freakshow
Into the biggest of cosmic jokes
And you are the punchline
I never see it coming.
The radar never makes a sound.
No trouble on the forecast.
But I recognize the discern of another Big Bang.
All too familiar.
All too predictable.
Yet, those bombshells are cloaked.
Falling like angels with filthy wings.
So swift.
So silent.
Until incendiary meets earth.
Until that habitual detonation of all that could have been screeches into the usual inferno.
Always too late.
Always too little.
And this look of surprise is far more genuine than you think.
I think.
gutterphenomenon 