Gone
Written November 9, 2001
It isn't me, it's you, and now you're...
Gone.
Left.
And nothing feels right.
Alone.
Feels like I've got nothing now.
Alone.
Like when I came here.
Alone.
Just like I'm leaving.
Gone.
We had something, and now it's gone.
Written November 9, 2001
It isn't me, it's you, and now you're...
Gone.
Left.
And nothing feels right.
Alone.
Feels like I've got nothing now.
Alone.
Like when I came here.
Alone.
Just like I'm leaving.
Gone.
We had something, and now it's gone.
Tribble Quibble
Written July 8, 1999
I started with the assumption that she hadn't really done it.
Nobody's that mean.
I knew she had just wanted to punish what she thought was the source.
But was only just the outlet.
So, I went looking.
Trying to track, what so long ago, I found.
Stolen from me and missed by her.
So, I dug deep, into the dungeon.
Finding nothing but fuzz.
Until the last box lay before me.
And I discovered treasure.
Take this.
From me, to you.
Take this Tribble.
Let it warm you when you feel low.
I know you will love it more than I can.
Because you're you.
Written July 8, 1999
I started with the assumption that she hadn't really done it.
Nobody's that mean.
I knew she had just wanted to punish what she thought was the source.
But was only just the outlet.
So, I went looking.
Trying to track, what so long ago, I found.
Stolen from me and missed by her.
So, I dug deep, into the dungeon.
Finding nothing but fuzz.
Until the last box lay before me.
And I discovered treasure.
Take this.
From me, to you.
Take this Tribble.
Let it warm you when you feel low.
I know you will love it more than I can.
Because you're you.
Street Love Whore
Written August 10, 1999
You want my love?
You want everything that I am?
Well, that's just more than I can give.
More than I can give.
I used to hand it out.
Freely, to anybody whom I thought I loved.
A beggar on the corner, trading his inners for some affection.
I was a Street Love-Whore.
Don't kiss me on the lips.
That's way too personal.
Don't lick your lips in my general direction.
That lacks any subtlety.
Tease me.
String me along.
Treat me like crap.
Isn't that what I usually go for?
Problematic, vicious women seem to swim my way.
Distant, and knotty girls are my smelly cheese.
Tried sweet.
Tried nice.
I always felt dirty and sticky.
Rangy and soiled.
These things that are going through my head.
Sometimes I let a few escape.
Can't hold them in anymore.
Won't deal with people who can't deal with me trying to deal with The Deal.
Whispy words that scare.
Terrifying terms that spook.
Like horses avoiding serpents.
But I'm really not that bad.
Once I'm in.
Written August 10, 1999
You want my love?
You want everything that I am?
Well, that's just more than I can give.
More than I can give.
I used to hand it out.
Freely, to anybody whom I thought I loved.
A beggar on the corner, trading his inners for some affection.
I was a Street Love-Whore.
Don't kiss me on the lips.
That's way too personal.
Don't lick your lips in my general direction.
That lacks any subtlety.
Tease me.
String me along.
Treat me like crap.
Isn't that what I usually go for?
Problematic, vicious women seem to swim my way.
Distant, and knotty girls are my smelly cheese.
Tried sweet.
Tried nice.
I always felt dirty and sticky.
Rangy and soiled.
These things that are going through my head.
Sometimes I let a few escape.
Can't hold them in anymore.
Won't deal with people who can't deal with me trying to deal with The Deal.
Whispy words that scare.
Terrifying terms that spook.
Like horses avoiding serpents.
But I'm really not that bad.
Once I'm in.
Fast/Slow
Written Sometime in 2000
Bled with one.
Struggled against another.
What has it won me?
What have I gained?
Taught about love?
Tremendous lack of.
Maybe it's me.
Doesn't everything end in black?
Written Sometime in 2000
Bled with one.
Struggled against another.
What has it won me?
What have I gained?
Taught about love?
Tremendous lack of.
Maybe it's me.
Doesn't everything end in black?
Corporate Chameleon
Written July 8, 1999
14 and she was gone.
14 and my soul shattered.
Picked up as many pieces as I could find.
But I know I missed a few.
Raged against the machine, but she fought back.
Nearly died at each other's throat.
But I crawled away.
And lived.
And grew.
And felt my power.
Found the most challenging job I could, and threw the chips down.
Everything I had, resting on a chance.
But I made it work, I forced the growth.
Became a Corporate Chameleon.
I never changed sides.
I never gave in.
I swore to her.
And I never broke it.
Learned what I had to learn.
What I needed to survive.
I'm on the brink.
On the verge of something.
And I can only feel the draw.
Maybe it's Life.
Maybe it's Death.
But I can feel the draw.
Pulling me up.
Making my head swim.
And my nose bleed.
Leaving now.
Don't be sad.
Becoming something else.
Finally finding out who was behind the curtain.
Maybe nobody.
Maybe the Wizard.
Don't let it be true.
That we come back down to let the dice roll again.
I want her to stay there.
So we can be together again.
Written July 8, 1999
14 and she was gone.
14 and my soul shattered.
Picked up as many pieces as I could find.
But I know I missed a few.
Raged against the machine, but she fought back.
Nearly died at each other's throat.
But I crawled away.
And lived.
And grew.
And felt my power.
Found the most challenging job I could, and threw the chips down.
Everything I had, resting on a chance.
But I made it work, I forced the growth.
Became a Corporate Chameleon.
I never changed sides.
I never gave in.
I swore to her.
And I never broke it.
Learned what I had to learn.
What I needed to survive.
I'm on the brink.
On the verge of something.
And I can only feel the draw.
Maybe it's Life.
Maybe it's Death.
But I can feel the draw.
Pulling me up.
Making my head swim.
And my nose bleed.
Leaving now.
Don't be sad.
Becoming something else.
Finally finding out who was behind the curtain.
Maybe nobody.
Maybe the Wizard.
Don't let it be true.
That we come back down to let the dice roll again.
I want her to stay there.
So we can be together again.
A Perfect World
Written July 19, 1999
There's so much pain.
So much dying.
Everybody leaves.
Everybody cries.
Everybody enters.
Everybody dies.
Pathways and crossings, between lives so short.
Death and Suffering, duty-bound cohorts.
Rare is it for one to find another.
Dark as it is around us.
Within us.
Two hands grasping.
Moving towards one goal.
Two bodies slapping.
Seeking release that they believe deserved.
Grunting and groaning.
Each moving to his own selfish rhythm.
Once achieved, turning away from the other.
Back to their own pathetically inane lives.
Short-lived passions leading to life-long agony.
Pain and distrust leading lovers to dismay.
Living in rooms without windows.
Floors without steps.
No sun on their backs.
Sickly discolored from isolation.
No rain on their faces.
Oddly hollow of thought, uncreased by warm emotion.
Hands limp.
Mouth agape.
Waiting for the end to come.
Written July 19, 1999
There's so much pain.
So much dying.
Everybody leaves.
Everybody cries.
Everybody enters.
Everybody dies.
Pathways and crossings, between lives so short.
Death and Suffering, duty-bound cohorts.
Rare is it for one to find another.
Dark as it is around us.
Within us.
Two hands grasping.
Moving towards one goal.
Two bodies slapping.
Seeking release that they believe deserved.
Grunting and groaning.
Each moving to his own selfish rhythm.
Once achieved, turning away from the other.
Back to their own pathetically inane lives.
Short-lived passions leading to life-long agony.
Pain and distrust leading lovers to dismay.
Living in rooms without windows.
Floors without steps.
No sun on their backs.
Sickly discolored from isolation.
No rain on their faces.
Oddly hollow of thought, uncreased by warm emotion.
Hands limp.
Mouth agape.
Waiting for the end to come.
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| Page last updated: September 27, 2003 |
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