November 12, 2010
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i asked you not to
i begged youin the memory of my own demise
in the soul
in the hearti asked you to stop
but you keep on
keeping onin ways i can’t
but you won’t listen
hear
or careso it sits next to me
staring up at metestament
testimonialto who we are
and what we’ve becomeand every time i look at it
it breaks my heart
kills my soul
and does damageto every fiber of my being
i asked you not to do
the things you doto stop
to give up
to go hometo be someone else
to something else
other then mebecause nothing is worth
what we’ve been throughnot life
not love
not usbut the words keep falling down
pouring from my mouth
like hemlock from a glassor cyanide in pill form
and there is nothing
will be nothing
but the forever afterof a two people
coasting on fumes
exiting stage rightevery time something falls apart
every time life gets to toughdoesn’t that tell you who we are
doesn’t that speak to some part of you
you’ve never seendoesn’t it move you
to change
to fix
to overcome
to make newall the things we should of done years ago
doesn’t it do anything at alleven if it’s just incremental screaming
quiet suffering
heartbroken failureeven if it’s just talking for hours
till we remember who we were
or forget what we’ve donebut it doesn’t:
doesn’t change you
doesn’t move you
doesn’t make you seeand this is where we are
this
is who we’ve becomeso i’m asking you
i’m begging youin the memory of my own demise
in the soul
in the heartto stop
pleasejust stop.
Comments (1)
faith is supposed to move mountains, but no one ever says how much faith . . . and if our arms get too tired to push the mountain anymore, we fail . . . but why the fuck doesn’t anyone blame the frickin’ mountain for being where it shouldn’t be in the first place?