Writings from November of 2007 to April of 2009, or maybe the middle of 2010. |
5-9-08 The blind was only a little seeing-eye puppy back when she thought she was leading me. A pre-mutation cell of cancer that claimed to have all the answers. Night after night. Fight after fight. I never ran so I faced the inevitable. Pulled up my pants to become a man. And sometimes the struggle doesn't hold up. I'm thankful for not having to walk around selling pencils out of tin cups. They say in a lot of the best lives it's best to have a short memory but I was gifted with an awkward one... it remembers the worst of what it wants to of me. You think might heart might take up some slack but it doesn't consider the past like that. What's done is done for, and doesn't wanna play around with it anymore. All the missed takes (mistakes) and missteps... how do I even hold breath? It takes more than a way to get away, but you can't get away without a way. I can't help that the past is all around and I can't fight a one-newspaper town and everyone paints their own failures on your frown like you're some sad, broken clown. They're all good like that and you can at least count on them for that and when they dismiss you like that you've got nothing to say about that. I walk these streets, a headache in the making. I gave up quests because my heart stopped breaking. Every deed I do, I do in kind but every good deed gets punished to the mind. And I hate that it gets taken home with me. And I hate that it goes to bed with me. And I hate that it wakes up with me. But is it me? Or of me? Or by me? The love? They never get it and the ones who get it never accept it. I set all the guides free just so I could be me. Now all I have is me and some leashes. We never knew how to use 'em. No way to decipher who the control was on. All I know is I can't get away from this place that I'm in without a headache or a heartache. |