recognition

this is what it means to taste misery. This deep copper that dyes my tongue a disgusting color. I can cleanse myself all I want but I know I'll always taste this metallic dissapointment. Sleeping without cotton swabs in my mouth is a terrible idea. There's nothing to soak up all the blood that pours in and down my esophagus.

I've never felt like we were equals, but now I know it for sure. It's so hard to accept that something I've clung to for years can be ripped away from my being like magic, with no trace. No remains. Only ruins are left in a wake that makes me feel like something less than human. Did I deserve this?

tuesday is coming

tuesday is coming.

tuesday is coming and i have no idea how to handle it. i hope to God that i get accepted to Berklee College of Music. i've been told though that whether i get in or not, it's not the end of the world. no matter how many times i hear that from someone else or let it drip out of my own head, i don't think i can avoid feeling crushed or lifted. obviously, i'm hoping for the latter but we shall see. i was told today that i had two ghost letters of reccomendation written for me and that people love my voice.

it's strange to imagine what people think of you when they've only known you for a short amount of time. you have known you for your entire life and you're completely aware of all of your flaws, even if the the scars aren't present anymore. these people though, they only know you for a short amount of time. they don't know who's heart you've broken, or how many promises you've broken, or how many sundays you've sat around and done nothing, or how many hours you've lounged around in a self loathing relationship with your own mind. it's a lucky thing that they don't know that part of you, because there would be a bit more to consider when accepting you to college.

i'm being dreadfully obvious, something i've always tried to avoid. but i can't help it in these times of introspection. i can feel my heart beating at a quickened pace. it reminds me of what it sounded like when i got my wisdom teeth out. they hooked me up to machinery so i could hear my own pulse.

it sang me to sleep

my own steady pulse is something i'll always have to keep to myself. my heart is something i've shared with a few people. they've felt it beat through the bone that traps it in like an animal in a cage. through the meat and muscle that surrounds it and houses it.

what does a heart sound like.
how does a heart beat.

edit.

so this is what it all comes down to huh? this is what i've been looking at in the mirror, what i've seen in the reflective glass of office buildings. this is what i've become.

a dimmer switch.

i'm the last trace of pain you feel that instant before you hit that epiphany. the one that tells you it will all be okay..that it's better this way. it happened for a reason.

i phase out slowly like nicotine fleeing from your body. i'm that steady concentrated dose helping you move on with your life and forget what was once flowing through your veins like a bloody substitute. i can't say i'm proud of my position as a patch, but "i am what i am."
this spiraling whirlwind of images dancing about in my head and forming a black hole in my stomach is something i don't think will ever leave, and i've come to accept that.
so the only thing i can do is reach in twist my arm. rattling my fingers around in my torso, reaching for some sort of origin. slipping and tripping over my intestines and holding my heart in a crushed and feeble hand.
there's no formula to this equation, but we'll all just keep trying.

sleeping beasts

please don't make an effort
i've got it under control
you see i'm used to being here
on the bottom of the ocean floor
treading through your thoughts
i keep my footsteps light
these patterns and seas of rhythm
are nothing in comparison to the score

one, love
keep your distance
two, love
i've got my resistance

the water's getting heavy
crushin from the pressure
living in this submarine
am i content, or should i ask for more?
and so i'm treading water
the temperature is warm
i watch the sun set in the east
and settle down with this sleeping beast, evermore

(what's the score?)


one, love
keep your distance
two, love
i've got my resistance

my dark passenger.

it's night, and i am desolate. the darkness is not pitch black to the point where nothing is recognizable, but just enough to be unable to discern shapes in the distance. as i wander through the haze that obstructs my vision, i take small light steps so as not to trip over anything making itself invisible to my feet. the grunge that surrounds me is a feeling i'm familiar with. it's something that has been with me and led me through my life for years now. it is my lies, my deceit, my harmful nature, and most of all my hate. it is a walkway that provides me with room to move, but at the same time it restricts my steps and keeps me confined on a path that only it knows the end to. i have struggled as hard as i possibly can for years to hold in whatever this grunge may be, and i have done a fairly good job. there are moments of weakness i expereince however, where it momentarily escapes in the form of a different character condemning those who deserve anything but. in a crowded room, this passenger is the entity that sleeps beneath the plastic incadescent smiles...the ones that are so fake they show every tooth in the mouth. the passenger is one that glides effortlessly through my heart and spins threaded thoughts that swamp my brain. it layers my mind and floats through it like a mist. though visible, it cannot be caught or contained and the only thing that you can do to survive it is to drive slowly and keep your brights off. this grunge...this passenger...i can only hope to subdue it for as long as possible.

Enough has been sleeping
And hiding behind me
Enough has been sneaking
And trying to blind me
But enough is enough

I can't let this beast lie any longer, and I certainly won't allow it to sleep at my feet. What was once and twice my trust, has become something that I should have seen weeks away. There it was speeding at me like a bullet train, and I had my lucky makeshift blindfold on, waiting to be led forward and put on the ground Indian style. This puzzle has always been missing a few pieces, and until now I had been looking for what I thought was lost. It just so happens that they were never lost...they just weren't ever there. I've spent years in vain searching for those ever elusive pieces of the blue sky that make this jigsaw complete. But now by some strange miracle, puzzle pieces come pouring out of my veins and I'm left to turn unidentifiable pieces over and search. One can never say if it's fully worth it to keep flipping over bits of specifically shaped cardboard, but somehow it always feels right.

It's funny what you think when you sleep. How only your own thoughts exist when you're halfway between death and a stuggle for consciousness. Tossing and turning leaves me sore and bitter toward the harsh buzz of an alarm clock that always seems to ring about five minutes before I would like it to. These dreams of swimming through the cosmos let me drift slowly and admire the symphony of stellar creationism. All the stars that I swim past doing my nightly laps of nearby galaxies, soon they'll all burn out and leave everything they ever knew. But not before they burn brighter than they ever have or ever will again...not before they explode with the intensity of nothing you have ever seen..or ever will see again.