Needle

This pencil is like a needle.
It's in my hand, but it could as well be in my arm
for I am addicted. I am hooked.
I need this. Hours of solitude, hours of road.
Hours of writing.
Hours of existing without the burden.
I should call someone. But I'm not going to let anyone
ruin this.
I call when I get THERE.
Not now.
Now I just enjoy these brief moments of rest.

I admit

For those who worship the form
admire the words
love the shape
I have nothing to say.
For those who worship the presence
admire the meaning
and love the mind
I have nothing I can say.

Miles to the Grave

How many miles away am I from my grave?
Guess I'll have to keep going to find out.
Though I'd rather not. I'd rather just sit here.
In dullness.
Stare out of the window
Into nothing.
Though every step seems like
The one preceeding it, it's never the same.
They always take me forward.
To somewhere else.
Towards something new.
Towards the grave.

Minor Explosion

I could tell it by your smile.
You didn't get me.
You took the insult that was never there.
You took my pen in your own hand
And wrote the insult there.
I don't blame you.
I should have been more careful.
But this minor misunderstanding
Was the sparkle that lit the fuse
And made my self-hatred explode
Out of all proportions.

Let it all burn.

I will walk out the door
I will quit this world
But there's quite a lot to do
Before I'm done.
Don't worry,  if you hate me.
The time will come soon enough.
I'll get what's coming to me.
The flower within me will close.
The candle will burn out.
I'm just feeding it.
Everything, every piece of paper
Every song, every sketch,
I will sacrifice everything.
Let it all burn.

Starve

Knowledge builds up the wall
That appears to stand a thousand feet tall
When the wall crumbles down upon us all
We will all be buried under it's weight
And it will surely leave a mark.
Instead of the fruit we eat the whole tree.
Isn't that green?
We'll aquire all the knowledge the universe beholds
Once we learn to shut up and eat.
But in this garden of Eden we rather starve to death
Than listen to anyone else
To tell us what to do.

Random Stuff From The Typewriter.

So here's something I've written since I finally got off my ass and cleansed the typewriter.. Which was about two days ago, I know I'm lazy..
---------------
Metronome inside my chest
Keeps taking away my precious seconds.
---------
ANTIMATTER

Revolving, spinning around,
in constant motion,
Locust swarm of particles,
destroying, annihilating
All things in it's way.
------------------
THE HOUSE THAT ACID BUILT

No One is home.
All the doors are flung open and off their hinges.
The hardwood floor creeks under the steps you never took.
The faucets are running, they drip thoughts that start to form
Small puddles at your feet.
In their reflections you can clearly see the wreckage of yourself.
The reflection of a mirage of an image of flesh.
Your eyes see,
Your mouth spill's it's filth.
Your ears hear that filth.
It's an endless feedback loop of meaningless noise.
Dirt. Filth. Sludge.
You involunteerly raise your hand to feel if your heart still beats.
It doesn't. It's disconnected, the power outlet is shut down.
The wind blows though your empty shell,
The skin has been shed.
The walls are still there, closing in as always.
The walls are still there, the roof is still up, the faucets still running.
No One wants to live
In the house that acid built.
----------------------
THE WINTERS COME AND GO

The snow comes around as always, cold and heavy.
My hands are shaking, though my mind seems ready
and my eyes are fixed on yours, firm and steady
Although your eyes don't see, you don't think,
you don't breathe, you don't even exist anywhere
outside of me, I still see you both.
In every single sun that's setting, in every dawn ascending
from night's loving embrace. I can't seem to forget it.
I still remember everything you ever taught me.
And though years may pass, and all else will fade,
You will still be sitting there, on the opposite side of the table,
right where you always used to sit.
And I can always come back here, and ask for your guidance.
And you'll always be here, inside my mind,
waiting eagerly for me to visit you, telling what's new,
Telling me what I should do. And I will always love you for that,
And for everything else too.
Thank you.
-----------------
SUBURBIA

Concrete boxes concealing
Concrete lives within,
Dreams moulded in concrete,
Everything is concrete
No deeper meaning
Nothing unexpected
Every single path
Will end to it's headstone.
Concrete plans
Concentration camps
Modern mental warfare
Against humanity.
------------------
FREQUENT DELUSIONS

You think I'm standing right
here in front of you
Though I am not.
I'm standing still in constant
motion.
Every particle of me swirling
around in emptiness.
And all you perceive
is frequencies that deceive
you to believe
That what you see
would really be me.
I am quite sure I don't
exist at all.
And mostly, I'm right.
Most of me is just waste of space.
----------------

You wallow in your own filth
Linger in your misery
Everything is shit
but you don't want to change a thing
Desperate for attention,
crawling back to hell
But only when you first made sure
That we're all watching.