Piece by Piece

FunkeRFunkeR Posts: 105
edited April 2004 in Poetry, Prose, Music & Art
So good to have this within me
A dream that's dying, in a sea of green
All the remoteness crawling up and clawing at my mouth
You don't bother to pay attention when I do let it out
So why should I say things that only cause harm
It's a lesson to be learned and one to live on

Please lift my hand and say you'll be there
I feel a hole in my chest that doesn't seem fair
While everyone's happy and living it up
I'm stuck all alone in this miserable rut

How come I can hold you so close to me
feel your skin in my hands and listen to you breathe
Every inch of our souls, so closely knit
But even with you here, I don't feel any of it
The simple joys that get everyone else by
Are growing numb and my choices are dying
My happiness a breed of emotion that extinction's so near
Myself I feel bad for
And myself I will bleed

Please lift my hand and say you'll be there
I feel a hole in my chest that doesn't seem fair
While everyone's happy and living it up
I'm stuck all alone in this miserable rut
Please lift me up from this place I am stuck
before you wake up and all of me is gone...
I say what I want, when I want. It's freedom of fucking speech.

Sperm, It's in you to give.




I used to have something to say... now I'm just a caricature of who I was... it's sad, that the one piece of me I wanted for you, is nothing but a misrepresentation of everything I am.
Post edited by Unknown User on

Comments

  • artjamartjam Posts: 227
    I gotta say funker I dont get you sometimes, but that was something I cant relate to feeling. I am sick of feeling hopless and all alone. Nice poem, man.
  • FunkeRFunkeR Posts: 105
    Originally posted by artjam
    I gotta say funker I dont get you sometimes, but that was something I cant relate to feeling. I am sick of feeling hopless and all alone. Nice poem, man.



    It was actually more about having someone right beside you, but day by day you become number, and can no longer feel them.
    I say what I want, when I want. It's freedom of fucking speech.

    Sperm, It's in you to give.




    I used to have something to say... now I'm just a caricature of who I was... it's sad, that the one piece of me I wanted for you, is nothing but a misrepresentation of everything I am.
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