Post by Whimsical||MUSE; on Oct 13, 2011 8:39:15 GMT -5
Thoughts like Liquid Cocaine
We are still spinning
Out of focus and unable to calm;
I have nothing left to say -
Nothing that hasn't been said before,
but still we try, or I do. One more time.
Is this the hit we crave? Is this the apology?
Or have these wounds gone too deep
to heal straight this time? My filthy drug
may have poisoned you, but I warned you,
I did, I swear.
But look! Look! Our crooked lives are bending,
Crooked hearts lopsided within the picture frame;
even our smiles are a little broken on the edge:
How many steps must be taken in the wrong direction
before we're put right again? Clowns never looked so horrendous.
It seems obscene to want so much
To care so much as
disaster strikes:
as a needle rises and falls,
a humming tune from childhood
obliterating all sense of maturity.
I'm stitching together bits and pieces lost in the fall:
I've jumped, but where, my almost-love,
Where were you to catch me?
October 12, 2011
We are still spinning
Out of focus and unable to calm;
I have nothing left to say -
Nothing that hasn't been said before,
but still we try, or I do. One more time.
Is this the hit we crave? Is this the apology?
Or have these wounds gone too deep
to heal straight this time? My filthy drug
may have poisoned you, but I warned you,
I did, I swear.
But look! Look! Our crooked lives are bending,
Crooked hearts lopsided within the picture frame;
even our smiles are a little broken on the edge:
How many steps must be taken in the wrong direction
before we're put right again? Clowns never looked so horrendous.
It seems obscene to want so much
To care so much as
disaster strikes:
as a needle rises and falls,
a humming tune from childhood
obliterating all sense of maturity.
I'm stitching together bits and pieces lost in the fall:
I've jumped, but where, my almost-love,
Where were you to catch me?
October 12, 2011