"Don't ask me"
           


One by one with packet's empty loss for me
It's empty, dirty, and full of misery
Maybe a dillusion, maybe an understanding
Maybe if i were a million miles away I'd know
Am I trapped, or are my eyes closed?

I'm scared to find out, because I'm usually wrong
I'm tired of not trying, because I usually don't
I'm all jumbled up, and I can't describe.
Let's look at describe, it's using words that we made
Using expressions with our current understanding
Creating pictures with limited paints,
Drawing sketches with tiny paper
Better tools would help, but then to have the proper
ways would be to know the proper feelings and then
I wouldn't be confused

I think about it alot
Everytime I end up back at square one
Maybe it doesn't require thinking
Maybe it doesn't mattter either way
But failure? loosing? I'm not sure if that's the best way
What if it's youth? What if later on I'll look back
and laugh at what I was thinking?
What if I never grow up?
Is this as grown up as we ever get?

But thinking has a sort of a "domino" effect
One channel leads to another, that channel leads to three
How do you tell yourself to stop? Or hold on?
Is that just me? Does anyone ever run dry?
Special. Do we all think the same? Do we all
have this individual "special" prospective?
Or do some know and for others it's different?

I can't help you see inside me, I can't paint
a very good picture.
But for me, it would help to hear you
It would help to see through you.
See through me.
But we're a thousand different directions
And you wouldn't know which one to pick
There are paths never used, there are doors never opened.
There are millions of ways unexplored.
Each to his own world, and each to his own decisions.
   
But here I am, drifting off course again.
Why not just a book? But does anyone else care?
Would anyone else read it?
What would they be like? Similiar or Opposite?
The point is lost now, but i'm still not finished.
But leaving, it's the still the main show, still
there ranked number one.
Still lingering, and meshing and crawling all over
my mind until I'm completely frightened.
Stuck, like a fly in a web. But there's no predator,
and the trap is just my own fear. I have control, you
have control. I think whoever lets go, deserves
to wallow in their stupid fucking mess.
I'm sorry you're not strong, i'm sorry you're so
pathedic. But pity opens up and love gets in.
I'll hold you, I'll find you, I'll carry you
through. But then it reverses, and I'll drop you
and kick you and beat you and hurt you and destroy you
and totally fucking erase you.

A puzzle, a complete broken puzzle. And you can't match
pieces or color or shape. Confusing, I know, but what
can you do? Give up? That's worse than being lost, that's
worse than falling down and being kicked in the face.
Pushing on and screaming. Sitting down and crying.
Flying up and laughing. Wherever you currently are,
it'll change before you blink. But you always have a
choice and you always know your safety net.

The other side wins for awhile, and the rain and snow
and clouds trample you. And the tears and death and wounds
are opened and pour and flood until you're so unsure
that you break down and you cry and you're hurt.
I know it hurts, but it's like a trapped weapon.
It pours out and consumes and swallows everything and every
light and every organ of every cell of every atom in your
entire existance in this small small world. Then
the circle changes and the sun and color look bright again,
and everything is clear for another summer.

But I have to stop, I have to close it, Like giant
doors shutting and the water beings
to run dry and gets
smaller and smaller,
and smaller and,
smaller and,
smaller,
closed.
       Mry0y0                       
