last one for a while.
all night long
stuffed into the slums
by choice?
not so much.
not by choice, no.
the blisters popping inside my boots
and soaking my socks with ooze said no
not by choice.
the scum, our roll call;
the sluts
the junkies
the bums
the pushers
the prostitutes
and the oversexed 11 year olds.
all night long
my hands were trying to grow eyes
to find that perfect throat to throttle.
but i guess it never came
i guess it eluded my grasp
but i walked around,
teeth clenched,
no longer with fingers but with C L A W S
ready to rip open the next piece of human garbage
that looked at me funny.
i wanted to do it
i wanted to feel
as it built and built.
but it wasn't until the cold set in
on that long, tired walk home
that the music fell upon my ears and i felt it all
come rushing in.
i broke, nearly in half
and my insides poured out seemingly at random.
the tears snuck up on me
as i felt
FELT
felt real, felt it come back.
and the tears snuck up on me like a rat in the dark
they gnawed through the back of my eyes
and they came out, by jesus, they came out.
disgusting things as they were
because it dawned on me
that none of it meant a goddam thing.
and i promised that i would not turn out like that
poor bastard at work today
that there was no way, no way in hell on earth
that that would be me.
and i thought,
this is not what moses intended when he came down
from the mount
as the tears rolled down my face
as paper bags snaked in the wind
as my ankle buckled underneath me.
the snow began and blew in my eyes
and i welcomed the coldness of it,
such the opposite of what i (finally) felt inside.
i burst
i BURST
wide open,
yelling, screaming
at no one... no one was there
but everyone should have listened.
i think if i was ever to have bled out into stigmata
tonight would have been the night
because the pain of the world was thrown upon me
from all directions, all at once
and i realized that it was because my hands were not
big enough
i could not wrap my hands around it's throat
the throat of the fucking world
and that instead
it sat squarely on my shoulders
as the last fucking person on earth who gives a damn.
all night long
stuffed into the slums
by choice?
not so much.
not by choice, no.
the blisters popping inside my boots
and soaking my socks with ooze said no
not by choice.
the scum, our roll call;
the sluts
the junkies
the bums
the pushers
the prostitutes
and the oversexed 11 year olds.
all night long
my hands were trying to grow eyes
to find that perfect throat to throttle.
but i guess it never came
i guess it eluded my grasp
but i walked around,
teeth clenched,
no longer with fingers but with C L A W S
ready to rip open the next piece of human garbage
that looked at me funny.
i wanted to do it
i wanted to feel
as it built and built.
but it wasn't until the cold set in
on that long, tired walk home
that the music fell upon my ears and i felt it all
come rushing in.
i broke, nearly in half
and my insides poured out seemingly at random.
the tears snuck up on me
as i felt
FELT
felt real, felt it come back.
and the tears snuck up on me like a rat in the dark
they gnawed through the back of my eyes
and they came out, by jesus, they came out.
disgusting things as they were
because it dawned on me
that none of it meant a goddam thing.
and i promised that i would not turn out like that
poor bastard at work today
that there was no way, no way in hell on earth
that that would be me.
and i thought,
this is not what moses intended when he came down
from the mount
as the tears rolled down my face
as paper bags snaked in the wind
as my ankle buckled underneath me.
the snow began and blew in my eyes
and i welcomed the coldness of it,
such the opposite of what i (finally) felt inside.
i burst
i BURST
wide open,
yelling, screaming
at no one... no one was there
but everyone should have listened.
i think if i was ever to have bled out into stigmata
tonight would have been the night
because the pain of the world was thrown upon me
from all directions, all at once
and i realized that it was because my hands were not
big enough
i could not wrap my hands around it's throat
the throat of the fucking world
and that instead
it sat squarely on my shoulders
as the last fucking person on earth who gives a damn.