daeudi_454
Oct 25th, '05, 04:24 AM
Real
by
Daniel Dixon
On a bridge over 465, the lights pulse over the veins of my mind.
Colors in steel breath warm the melancholy topor.
The shadow of yesterday's echo.
"So this is what it is like being me."
Who are you?
"I am me, of course."
No, no, you aren't. I am.
"Isn't that what I just said?"
The silhouette stared into the past.
"Remember the one that did all you couldn't:
fight, succeed, dream, live.
Wasted piece of flesh in a quill and ink world."
Rolled bones in two dimensions.
"How will it feel to lose the heart beat I'll never have?"
I hope this is just the depression, the loneliness.
Or even madness. Something...
"Right again; I am something, something you left years ago
and I want me back!"
"Look around you, the muffled pastel pulse of what? What is it you hear?"
"Do you hear the sirens, the horns, the crickets?
Or is it all just blended into lacquered gray ennui.
I prefer dot matrix, yet live in false hues.
What's the point of just sitting there waiting for me to leave?"
"If this is what it's like being me... I prefer the lines of blood light on the highway,
like my back the last time you touched her.
You and I, should go over together; as to not be alone."
Just go away, I can't deal with this now. I don't have time to go crazy.
"If not now, then when? I'm just words on a page, what are you afraid of?"
"If you go alone that's all I'll remain. so you pathetic little f*** up, grow some b***s and jump.
Finish what you start, or I'm going with out you"
I need time, just a little time to think.
"You've had all the time in this crazy world, but still you came up here..."
Toes clutching concrete.
"Well, see ya."
Blurry face of the fanatic that once was slips off the stone and out of mind.
I am. Waiting, waiting for the will, waiting for the outcome, waiting for myself.
Great here comes officer friendly, intent on harassing the alternate lifestyle of nocturnal.
"You okay? What are you waiting for?"
A reason.
COPYRIGHT DANIEL DIXON 1992-2005
by
Daniel Dixon
On a bridge over 465, the lights pulse over the veins of my mind.
Colors in steel breath warm the melancholy topor.
The shadow of yesterday's echo.
"So this is what it is like being me."
Who are you?
"I am me, of course."
No, no, you aren't. I am.
"Isn't that what I just said?"
The silhouette stared into the past.
"Remember the one that did all you couldn't:
fight, succeed, dream, live.
Wasted piece of flesh in a quill and ink world."
Rolled bones in two dimensions.
"How will it feel to lose the heart beat I'll never have?"
I hope this is just the depression, the loneliness.
Or even madness. Something...
"Right again; I am something, something you left years ago
and I want me back!"
"Look around you, the muffled pastel pulse of what? What is it you hear?"
"Do you hear the sirens, the horns, the crickets?
Or is it all just blended into lacquered gray ennui.
I prefer dot matrix, yet live in false hues.
What's the point of just sitting there waiting for me to leave?"
"If this is what it's like being me... I prefer the lines of blood light on the highway,
like my back the last time you touched her.
You and I, should go over together; as to not be alone."
Just go away, I can't deal with this now. I don't have time to go crazy.
"If not now, then when? I'm just words on a page, what are you afraid of?"
"If you go alone that's all I'll remain. so you pathetic little f*** up, grow some b***s and jump.
Finish what you start, or I'm going with out you"
I need time, just a little time to think.
"You've had all the time in this crazy world, but still you came up here..."
Toes clutching concrete.
"Well, see ya."
Blurry face of the fanatic that once was slips off the stone and out of mind.
I am. Waiting, waiting for the will, waiting for the outcome, waiting for myself.
Great here comes officer friendly, intent on harassing the alternate lifestyle of nocturnal.
"You okay? What are you waiting for?"
A reason.
COPYRIGHT DANIEL DIXON 1992-2005