May 11, 2004 § Leave a comment
i whisper to nobody, for nobody is there,
and nobody is the only one who is going to care.
there has to be some other way to fill my days,
light up my nights, live my life.
i am not afraid of heights;
what terrifies me are my likes and dislikes.
i want to be me, but not at the expense of anyone else.
i don’t know why i’m trying to impress people
when everyone around me is as fake and make-believe
as santa claus and all his elves.
i took my toys down from the shelves
and threw them all away,
trying to start over in the right way.
possessions don’t matter, people do,
but here i am always saying,
“i’m through with you, and you, and you.”
we need to draw a line or two
so i know when i cross it and then what to do.
i just don’t have a lot to say.
there aren’t that many words to cover how i feel in a day.
if anything, at least i can say my emotions are flawless
even when everything else is flawed.
i’m floored when i find out how many people care
when i feel like abandoning this life
and hiring my bag of bones out as a mercenary,
showing no mercy for those with weak resolve,
those who show no signs of resolution
even though the revolution is at their front door.
inside i’m shouting “revolt!” against my life of hypocrisy
that has heinously chained me to my lies
and tied my insides up into big knots
so i stay still while everyone takes cheap shots.
i’ve got a fever so hot that it leaves me cold.
am i really this old? once upon a time i was bold.
everything in this world that is green and gold
is turning to silver and grey
more and more with each day,
and if we’re lucky we’ll all die in such a way
that the beauty and youth we so foolishly squandered
won’t go to waste when they paint a pretty smile
upon your frozen face,
frozen in time, life stopped on a dime,
too many reasons and not enough rhyme.
i had a dream that you and i swam in the rhine,
the whole river was flooded with burgundy wine.
the two of us drank and danced and dined,
oh, life was divine in this dream of mine!
but then dawn crept up on me,
the sun’s rays reached my eyes,
calling me closer to the day i die.
leave it to nature to rain on my parade,
invite me to star in another charade,
serenade me with sweet songs of birds and of bees
when i already know there’s no one out there for me.
i don’t like commitment, i can’t be tied down,
i like to keep moving, keep my head in the clouds.
you all look like clowns when you walk hand-in-hand,
making plans for the future
without looking at the hourglass’ sands.
i hope i die young before i ever find love.
i’d hate to go out knowing what i’m missing
and knowing that someone out there is missing me.
i like being free, but i don’t know what to do.
i’m not very good at making friends.
i’m good at losing contact
and letting the means justify the ends,
but i guess it all depends.
i look better on paper.
i can always play with words to play myself up,
but i’m not great with a brushstroke for applying some blush,
and my mascara is always either running or clumped.
my room is a dump when i’m in a good mood.
i wish i knew what things to eat that are considered “good food.”
i don’t mean to be rude, but i come across that way
when i have too much or nothing at all to say.
i wish i could play this game of life with more ease,
i wish i could play an instrument or three,
but i don’t have the patience to practice for hours
with a banjo on my knee.
i can’t dance, i can’t sing, i can’t be bothered,
i just can’t bring about an end to everything that’s going on,
so instead i listen to that one song again and again
because my heart beats to the same tune as the drums,
and the lead singer is my voice, so i only need to hum.
nothing is in the place where i want it to be.
you and she are happy, the rest are far away
(and, honestly, this is getting pretty sappy),
but sometimes i hope they’d forget about me.
sometimes i’m forgetting to breathe.
i wear thick glasses because i just can’t see.
i don’t know what you need.
i don’t know what you need me to be.
i don’t even know what you mean to me anymore.
you walk out of the room and always slam the door.
i want to feel adored.
i love it when you tell me you love me,
even if it’s only in my dreams.
i know we could never be.
i could never be what you want a girl to be.
i don’t have the looks, the laugh, the lips,
the smile, the thighs, the eyes, the hips.
it’s a surprise to see you ever directed words in my direction,
caught me in the middle of another depression,
working on a resurrection,
you got stuck with my every confession
and all the lies and confections i conjured up
just to keep you near;
told you all the things i thought
a boy like you would want to hear.
i miss hearing your voice, but i made a choice,
and i don’t know where i stand.
i don’t yet regret it, i know that i meant it,
even if i don’t know what it means.
i dream too many dreams.
i own too many pairs of jeans.
i buy and discard, toss out old birthday cards
and some of the letters you sent me.
no, all of the letters you sent me.
all the letters and all the words
in all the world are so absurd
that now to me it has just occurred
how sparrows and larks and finches and flowers
and cities full of towering towers
talk to each other with different sounds
and to them our alphabet is worthless dirge.
and have you ever observed
how slow a day goes by
when you sit in your room
with tears in your eyes,
watering your fears and follies
with every empty goodbye?
when i look out of my window,
the same window i’ve looked out of my entire life,
it seems the sun is always stuck right where it is in the sky,
and if i strain my eyes i can see the horizon moving
while the earth rotates ’round our ever-glowing star
that will someday lose its luster
and leave us in the dark,
cold and alone.
i’m already there,
at the end of the universe,
waiting for the rest of the world to catch up
and meet me at infinity’s edge.
is that when i’ll finally find you in my arms?
when there’s nobody left to hold on to but me?
i’ll wait forever and even more just to rewrite history.
i’m so very sorry, dear.
i never meant to hurt you.
i just wanted to be alone.