Friday, 12 March 2010

Still Writing Spaghetti Words

You look in the mirror
And you’re the one who cracks
Fragmented and vexed
Grab some cigarettes
To calm you down,
Turn your frown into a mask,
A $5, cheap façade.

I’ll buy what you’re selling
My nature’s not refined
So this gear will rig me out
And fill the void I wish to leave behind.
Consume the smoke, sweep the ash,
Choke on all the false relationships
Tempted to itch the bleeding rash.

No surprise that I faltered
That I slipped on your weary alter
I refuse to bow down to higher things
Because my back aches,
I’ve been hunched over for too long.
I’m tired of being minuscule
Tied to God in a molecule.

So strike a match and let it burn
Let it fall onto dry grass
We’ll so them our rage
Each page I painted in pencil
To show my anger without getting angry
And I still paint the pages,
But with spaghetti words.

No comments:

Post a Comment