I don't write this, I just uncover it people really shouldn't take me too seriously misquoted by subconscious journalists. Liars! The wisdom of skin and revenge mapped out a cheap hotel room with thousands of opinions The imposter body is impatient, unaware About a minute after that she hung up draw up some more battle lines. Imperative neon light dreams years away from time I don't know why I don't know why Only a lucky few are not eaten by that bird this is just a statement, like a date in history I think about that summer I remember every cloud the undrawn map of promised tomorrows, all lies Some feel the heat and some never burn Oh honey, "What is that smell?" find the right words and they create volcanoes this is just a dream. They're not really here. You know what it is, I told you, you know read three words then everything goes dark I accidentally start singing and forget you I am deep asleep with a clock ticking inside me can we hurt them? oh please, let us hurt them. then they are menaced by a flock of umbrellas it is as if you were part of a photograph not ghosts, not images, something in between open the door hidden behind the curtain stop her, she is eating his shirt now and her eyes, weary past their former sadness, feel like an inner voice of radioactive fallout "Do you see that one over there?" something bad is going to happen I've known that for many years now memory of pain and neglect is always ambiguous THINGS WILL NOT WORK OUT YOUR WAY It doesn't matter. It's a tidal zone of unwitnessed robbery.
Painting the stars where the sunset should be.
Transporting islands in exchange for scattered thoughts and doors without keys.
We're busier than ever.
What is going on there, for, is in one word, a ,
You never know who you're gonna offend.
There is zero possibility of pushing the strings
just let it roll over you on its own "okay, fine, whatever"
It's ending one minute at a time on an anonymous battlefield, a turning storm
All you have to do is believe me.
if you're bleeding, look for a man with scars
real life stories are far more unbelievable
that means two mutually exclusive messages
Depends on the hobby, I guess
The distance from there to here is a whole world
it's a moment caught between loss and longing
See every disastrous decision and outrageous lie
You see that hideous gulf between dream and fact
I revise the story, yes, as a decorative scheme
In my language, there is no single word for that
The vagueness enhances the point
I know I'm deluding myself And hopefully you too
the differential erosion of sympathetic riddles
open all the boxes; the moon is going to die
tears press against her eyes, trying to escape
She's not that cute and annoying as hell
She speaks clean, lovely, well-manicured lies
we are always pointlessly civil to one another
It's all planned out now, just waiting to hear
Typically, it seems like a bit too much rhetoric
yes, everybody has a horror story but I am not condoning that behavior
If you think it's damaged then it is.
like a counterfeit answering machine recording
There is no action and no reaction
The main thing it teaches is confusion
Peace and happiness are easier to clean - all they show on the outside is a blankness
And experts say there's no substantial evidence?
Now people are falling from the sky
I'm sure she's thought of that too.
just Fly the whole mess into the sea.
Perhaps the roles were reversed. I never knew
she did make good deviled eggs, though
it's an idea only credible when printed on cans
It's okay now. I already see that
It's something any self-respecting liar would do
Her complete autobiography, on one postcard
I'm arrogant and selfish, but eloquent
molten gravity, prior assumption, instant coffee
A cautionary tale, with all it's flaws and knots
and the wicked questions of polite conversation
the first microscope of disobedience and ire
Unique training methods and haphazard experience
it's just another case of recycled crudeness
I only explain this part of it because
There's always a faint confusion around the edge
they like to be able to relate to the story
I doubt that you would have seen it
You can not edit out fundamental flaws
It was only yesterday the burnt man was young
Our vision has become clouded and wrong
Does anyone understand anything?
In a story this bad, it's pointless to be good
we all know the value of a devious facade
Her head doesn't ache but is her thinking clear?
My voice sounds louder than I expect
the words do not come fully defined
choose silence over the confusions of speaking
who's running for president of Antarctica?
What a collection of cross-eyed snakes
she was anticipating an open book of regret
Truthful comments are a pleasure to read, but
promises broken - you see your life drowned
it's all just temporary - ripples on a pond
Just walking forward with no second thoughts.
It's like the sound of ambulances burning
In that season I generally avoid crowds.
Get everything ready, they are coming to inspect
Can she tell me what I am thinking?
A Rorschach test for the blind
A monster weaving a tangled web of deception
Just another risky attempt to make orbit
Throw them off-balance, watch them squirm
she brags about wanting control
The exquisite look of bewilderment on their faces
I admire your work ethic and willingness
I can hear the music in punctuation now.
I want to see you portray that scene in lard
This is something that belongs in the story
ten years later he repeated the mistake
It didn't matter which one he chose
It was not traumatic, not without incident
Different days, different routes, different suns
Her reputation was flawless, devious, imaginary,
you might consider what that means to the bees
Fevered dreams below the water line
In fiction we can have anything
twenty minutes later...
I remember something happens, Seven years ago
Sometimes, it is best to feel nothing
Then the cycle would be broken, without
All that's needed is a better interruption
It doesn't interest me what you do for a living
but are you really content in the empty moments
do I want to know if you can live with failure?
the wrong number dialed by wrong fingers
I am not providing pancakes today
Show me the way out of this place
I agreed to pick up certain items not those
You do not look like a magnet I was hoping for something a little more
filled with contentment and fireflies
one leads, others follow - the eternal story
life, imagination, creation, thought, rhubarb
Candied Camera? That can't be right
I made a decision there, in that moment
no judgment, no penalty, only blackness
no thanks I'm not hungry
I keep having these vivid dreams now.
The color is relative, who needs to see the rest
I could tell by her eyes she was uncertain
I make up the names, but you get the point
Don't worry, pretend like you understand
At first it sounds completely random
I read the dictionary - three words at a time
I've been in stranger places I suppose
I'm not obligated to forgive her misfortune
ItissatisfyingaswellasunsatisfyingItisrationalaswellasirrationalItisintriguingaswellasdisgusting
What a compelling nightmare it is
Driven by instincts older than the trilobites
Instant gratification is a complex business
Don't worry too much, it'll happen to you
Oxygen thieves! Stop stealing my oxygen
That said, I'll try to watch with an open mind.
I don't even know reality from fiction anymore
I suspect people are plotting to make me happy
I hand her three twenties, say nothing.
The very act of breathing forces her to lie.
She answers the phone flippantly. "Hey"
Not one minute later... The entire sordid tale
Go ahead. I'm staying here
I never do explain that part in the stories.
I think loudly, wishing they could read minds
only in my head is it so easy to tell you
sentences made more of dreams than words.
we get a little nostalgic for simpler days - before the zombies were at the gates
I count on the probability of sunrise
it's just a theory but so is everything else
I was wondering when someone would waken
They were posing a threat to other voids
syntax suddenly turned off inside your brain.
it lacks the spark of an authentic voice
it's the lost translation of bees
diabolical phonetics cloak split minds
No, you answer my question first.
She says, "Women are psychotic." And I think, Look who's talking.
you will not betray your natural language
I'm trying to figure out what year it is
No plan no idea I am simply passing the time
some people need more convincing than others
some require special treatment
It is painful to watch most of the time
I wait to see her reaction only to deny her
Her absence inspires me more than her presence
years pass, waiting to hear her next lie
we are now enrolled in the advanced subtext class
a hunger for new experiences beyond the horizon
The near and the far, the ruined map
"There is nobody else, sir, they are closing this location."
For one moment, I forget I woke up today
"Get the hell away from my car."
These riddles mean less to me now
Your body begins to ache again in its stillness
lay awake all night and never rest at dawn
"Amnesia" twisting itself inside your thoughts
sounds like something written on another planet
nice if you don't pay any attention to the words
she looks at me with a squint, words drawn out
she asks, Do bees hear music?
Probably still works that way at night
Everything you sing I've already sung
I like to disfigure a perfect silence.
Knowing how to play dumb is a saving grace.
7 days works better as abandonment
a sculpture of ice that no one will ever see.
and quit feeding the dog from the table
Why does it have to be I never shed a tear?
you are my library, encyclopedia of my dreams
On and on and on Feels like forever
How long does this go on?
no meaning found in depleted tea
there is no key no plan no hours
Locked in a frozen second
I never see the sun shine in her eyes
If you understand everything I say, you'd be me
just put this here, flip a switch and walk away
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