Post by Whimsical||MUSE; on Nov 5, 2011 15:34:36 GMT -5
Puppy Training
Oh god, oh god --
it's coming again,
twisting and writhing,
me without ever being myself:
a face I know,
the voice I recognize,
but it's all a stranger,
all anger
all hate
all loneliness.
Am I screaming? It echoes in my heart.
Silent, but this time I'm the sun,
not you.
This time, you will all gravitate toward me.
Revolve around the currents of my moods,
the sauciness in my smile;
time to see the demon,
the dark side of the sun --
my hands itch for your throat. Do you feel me getting closer?
Someone growls;
Or is that my hands clawing down the walls?
Your spine caught in a clasp as inescapable as thought?
It's time to break out of my skin --
time to take my knife and cut away all the scum
that's built up for weeks and weeks.
I'm as tangled as your words;
Slime makes it impossible to breathe,
mud caked thick on my lips;
hah, hah -- I cough blood on the floor.
Dizziness, disorientation --
I warp where it's clawing it's way out,
-----------------------------------------------out,
---------------------------------------------------out,
a snake perhaps,
a demon for sure. Me.
Dying, twisting.
The weed has become impossible to kill;
the flower I've made of myself is strangled
and the mask that simpers and laughs
is pried
off my face. I am full,
to bursting.
Time to lose it all in the gamble
I can't give up.
Do you see true now?
Have I ruined the image you've made of me?
the effigy that has been polished and rubbed clean?
I spit at your feet --
dog, you don't know me.
November 5, 2011.
Oh god, oh god --
it's coming again,
twisting and writhing,
me without ever being myself:
a face I know,
the voice I recognize,
but it's all a stranger,
all anger
all hate
all loneliness.
Am I screaming? It echoes in my heart.
Silent, but this time I'm the sun,
not you.
This time, you will all gravitate toward me.
Revolve around the currents of my moods,
the sauciness in my smile;
time to see the demon,
the dark side of the sun --
my hands itch for your throat. Do you feel me getting closer?
Someone growls;
Or is that my hands clawing down the walls?
Your spine caught in a clasp as inescapable as thought?
It's time to break out of my skin --
time to take my knife and cut away all the scum
that's built up for weeks and weeks.
I'm as tangled as your words;
Slime makes it impossible to breathe,
mud caked thick on my lips;
hah, hah -- I cough blood on the floor.
Dizziness, disorientation --
I warp where it's clawing it's way out,
-----------------------------------------------out,
---------------------------------------------------out,
a snake perhaps,
a demon for sure. Me.
Dying, twisting.
The weed has become impossible to kill;
the flower I've made of myself is strangled
and the mask that simpers and laughs
is pried
off my face. I am full,
to bursting.
Time to lose it all in the gamble
I can't give up.
Do you see true now?
Have I ruined the image you've made of me?
the effigy that has been polished and rubbed clean?
I spit at your feet --
dog, you don't know me.
November 5, 2011.