i wanted to have a lot to say, to amuse
to write and spill
but what do i have?
i don't know.
those three words, and a vague, eating,
emptiness.
i could be a lot happier if i just chose
a mood switch- those convenient switches
that i so frequently rely upon
so often that the wires are fused,
and the current no longer flows;
currently the past has overtaken me.
which sinks more? the silence or the words?
but please dont misunderstand,
words make me out to be more affected than i am
but lately it seems delirium has caught up with me
and the pendulum swing goes both ways
and you discover, hidden beneath the layers,
emotions you've never known
surfacing, pulling you this way and that
contorting and spreading, distorting and foaming
like wretched waves dissipating a thousand tensions.
to find ourselves so happy and so sad
to find that life spends itself out only in extremes of being;
in the perfectly balanced momentum
of a swing.
what do they know?
but the simulacrum of us.
pretty pictures of gloss and paint
what do i know?
that it goes higher than their eyes can follow
and yet, in synchrony,
that the minute cracks flaking the dry paint cut deeper
than the cracks of our smiles
