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Customized Confusion
Contributed by
Diatribe
on
Monday, 10th May 2004 @ 09:15:21 PM in AEST
Topic:
psychoticpoems
|
I dont need my glasses to see you for who you are. In fact, I dont need my vision at all. Just the sound of the lies that spew from your mouth is enough evidence to prove to me that youre a disease. And I have the cure. Bound, gagged and tied to the tracks. Ill stand by your side. Ill even hold your hand. Pity it wont be attached to your arm at this point, but its the thought that counts, right and its too bad these railroad tracks are abandoned. Its like being a kid again. Im the cop and youre the robber, or is it the other way around. Maybe its neither. Maybe youre just the a**hole and Im the sick ***** living out the fantasy of being crazy. Is it a fantasy when you really are crazy? Im barely awake. Still clutching your hand, but it fades and youre whole again. And my straight jacket seems a little too tight. Can I try on a different size? Plus this isnt really my color. Cmon white? It tends to show dirt too easily and Im a dirty boy. And every time I step outside these padded walls I realize I was never in there to begin with. But they were always within me. I once again find myself along side the railroad tracks walking still. Looking back at whats in front of me. But they were never railroad tracks and I was never me. Im barely sleeping. Im barely dreaming. And I hardly ever think of you. I could never remember anything, but I always seem to figure it out. Randomized nonsense. Customized confusion. Internal secretion. Creative collaboration. Is this freedom? Who are you and who am I? And I hope youre paying rent for the room and board thats in my mind!
Copyright ©
Diatribe
... [
2004-05-10 21:15:21] (Date/Time posted on
site)
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