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PerceptualPerceptual Posts: 200
edited April 2007 in Poetry, Prose, Music & Art
growing tired of a sanity so untidy
reality so distant
keeping death at arms reach
just when I need it
at times when I feel the blame
running me down a hundred times each day
crushing my bones, feeling my spirit break
pressing my skull into the ground

nothing feels familiar to touch
except this pain in my head
god, what a rush
it feels good to hurt so much

now I've been marked for life
being myself is my only crime

growing weary of a sanity so unclean
my body so broken
though death is still unseen
just when i long for it
at times when my mind blames me
for everything, for everything, for every fucking thing
squeezing my heart, watching my spirit fade
pushing my skull into the ground

nothing feels familiar to touch
except this pain in my head
god, what a rush
it feels good to hurt so much

Now I've been marked for life
being myself is my only crime
I've been marked for life
I don't even know why I'm crying
"this one, anytime I say love if you wanna say love, uh, say it, and if you say it you might as well say it loud, and if you don't feel like sayin' it, don't say it, but if you feel it, certainly say it..."

NOTE: Everything I write in the P,P&M section are intended to be songs, not poetry.
Post edited by Unknown User on

Comments

  • PerceptualPerceptual Posts: 200
    change last line to "I don't know why I cry"

    BRING BACK THE EDIT FUNCTION!!!
    "this one, anytime I say love if you wanna say love, uh, say it, and if you say it you might as well say it loud, and if you don't feel like sayin' it, don't say it, but if you feel it, certainly say it..."

    NOTE: Everything I write in the P,P&M section are intended to be songs, not poetry.
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