Some poetry
I don't usually write poetry. It's just not really my thing, and to a few certain people, I will even swear up and down that I don't even like to read the stuff, much less write it. (They know better, of course, but it's a matter of stubborn pride at this point.)
So here they are. Sorry for the emo. :P
“What if”
(12 May 2009)
Weariness
Ever-present
Bone-deep and draining
Hunger
Ever-burning
Unfulfilled and wanting
Despair
Ever-aching
Trapped and obligated
What If
Ever-different
Escapist and confusing
Escape
Ever-appealing
Impossible, impossible
“About this morning...”
(10 May 2010)
Looking at you,
Punk rock, Hipster wannabe.
Suit coat, turtleneck, jeans.
Never mind that it's May.
And come on,
Honey,
what's with that hat?
You look like some sort of Failed Pimp.
What the hell was I thinking?
You're vanilla, lame.
Living some social ideal,
wanting a perfect wife
that you just ain't gonna get.
Not able to even see my dark side
Much less meet it in a way
That satisfies me.
I'm
too
fucking
METAL
for
you.
Something's gotta give
Something's gotta break
Something's gotta go away
Probably me.
If I weren't such a
fucking
COWARD.
“Extraction”
(15 May 2010)
You'd think I'd know by now
which way it ought to go.
Been over a year
Been wishy-washy way too long.
But I've always been decided,
Even before return.
Gorram that sense of honor
and the obligation that holds me bound.
Here I stay
Here I suffer
Here I agonize over
The things I can't afford to leave
and the things I can't stand to keep.
I'm being destroyed slowly
Eating myself up from the inside out
With the need to be
somewhere
something
SOMEONE
else.
Wouldn't it be nice
If we could remove our honor
Through medical procedure?
But where is my measure of peace
when I'M the only one
that can be the true surgeon?
I still might let him try.
So here they are. Sorry for the emo. :P
“What if”
(12 May 2009)
Weariness
Ever-present
Bone-deep and draining
Hunger
Ever-burning
Unfulfilled and wanting
Despair
Ever-aching
Trapped and obligated
What If
Ever-different
Escapist and confusing
Escape
Ever-appealing
Impossible, impossible
“About this morning...”
(10 May 2010)
Looking at you,
Punk rock, Hipster wannabe.
Suit coat, turtleneck, jeans.
Never mind that it's May.
And come on,
Honey,
what's with that hat?
You look like some sort of Failed Pimp.
What the hell was I thinking?
You're vanilla, lame.
Living some social ideal,
wanting a perfect wife
that you just ain't gonna get.
Not able to even see my dark side
Much less meet it in a way
That satisfies me.
I'm
too
fucking
METAL
for
you.
Something's gotta give
Something's gotta break
Something's gotta go away
Probably me.
If I weren't such a
fucking
COWARD.
“Extraction”
(15 May 2010)
You'd think I'd know by now
which way it ought to go.
Been over a year
Been wishy-washy way too long.
But I've always been decided,
Even before return.
Gorram that sense of honor
and the obligation that holds me bound.
Here I stay
Here I suffer
Here I agonize over
The things I can't afford to leave
and the things I can't stand to keep.
I'm being destroyed slowly
Eating myself up from the inside out
With the need to be
somewhere
something
SOMEONE
else.
Wouldn't it be nice
If we could remove our honor
Through medical procedure?
But where is my measure of peace
when I'M the only one
that can be the true surgeon?
I still might let him try.