![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
addispatcher, posting in schizofriends @ : "Sometimes I Ramble"
I take my place among the ranks
of the dearly departed,
and your face doesn’t change
It ended like it started:
as friends, though we never really
ascended beyond that
Hard to imagine considering the tension
we both observed, always
brought to our attention
even when no one mentioned it
Odd, considering everyone saw it
I guess my timing was flawed
or maybe God just hates me
Either way I’ve grown cold and embittered
and this sense of isolation
is irreversibly entrenched in waking life
I feel so old, so weak, so sick,
no one here, no one to hold me
No one wants to console me,
yet there are factions warring to control me
as if I’m some sort of instrument
one can implement in situations
where one can be held accountable
for their actions, and allowing every
infraction of their supposedly
impenetrable defence against loneliness
and aging, and decision-making, and honesty
I don’t want to be responsible
for the fall of an empire
I want to be your doll
I want to be your bitch
Should I feel guilty for being hurt
when you jilted me, slinging your stilted repartee
that you derived from some source
undoubtedly just as contrived as you would be
if you were at all original
I built this kingdom
You’re all my subjects,
and I’m not an object to be used
to provide you with escape
after you’ve effectively raped me,
or at least robbed me of my dignity
and you still refuse to hold my hand
You’re a plague
A swarm of vague and indirect insults
resulting in the denigration
of “friends” you left in your wake
once you’ve taken what you can from them
Just like me, apparently
I’m a hive of insects, intent on devouring itself
from the inside out, and then back in again
I really don’t appreciate these paths
I’m always being led down,
but as I’ve found out, the more I struggle,
the deeper I get, and even now
honestly no one has any idea of the depths
my depravity has reached thus far
The gravity of it is beyond even my grasp
Listless, lipless, unable to open my mouth
Enlisted in the rabid council
of her most unholy majesty
If you listen closely, you’ll likely notice
that there’s no heartbeat to speak of
No faucet drip, no grip on anything real
sturdy, stable, steady, stationery, static
Only this erratic craving for intimacy
for eroticism, for something exotic
Walking on eggshells around me,
failing to notice that wherever I go,
I’m stepping on broken glass
Past a certain point, pollution
is no longer appealing
It becomes appalling, even if initially
you found it to be enthralling
Truthfully, no one wants to repair
this level of damage
What the hell do you mean “why?”
of the dearly departed,
and your face doesn’t change
It ended like it started:
as friends, though we never really
ascended beyond that
Hard to imagine considering the tension
we both observed, always
brought to our attention
even when no one mentioned it
Odd, considering everyone saw it
I guess my timing was flawed
or maybe God just hates me
Either way I’ve grown cold and embittered
and this sense of isolation
is irreversibly entrenched in waking life
I feel so old, so weak, so sick,
no one here, no one to hold me
No one wants to console me,
yet there are factions warring to control me
as if I’m some sort of instrument
one can implement in situations
where one can be held accountable
for their actions, and allowing every
infraction of their supposedly
impenetrable defence against loneliness
and aging, and decision-making, and honesty
I don’t want to be responsible
for the fall of an empire
I want to be your doll
I want to be your bitch
Should I feel guilty for being hurt
when you jilted me, slinging your stilted repartee
that you derived from some source
undoubtedly just as contrived as you would be
if you were at all original
I built this kingdom
You’re all my subjects,
and I’m not an object to be used
to provide you with escape
after you’ve effectively raped me,
or at least robbed me of my dignity
and you still refuse to hold my hand
You’re a plague
A swarm of vague and indirect insults
resulting in the denigration
of “friends” you left in your wake
once you’ve taken what you can from them
Just like me, apparently
I’m a hive of insects, intent on devouring itself
from the inside out, and then back in again
I really don’t appreciate these paths
I’m always being led down,
but as I’ve found out, the more I struggle,
the deeper I get, and even now
honestly no one has any idea of the depths
my depravity has reached thus far
The gravity of it is beyond even my grasp
Listless, lipless, unable to open my mouth
Enlisted in the rabid council
of her most unholy majesty
If you listen closely, you’ll likely notice
that there’s no heartbeat to speak of
No faucet drip, no grip on anything real
sturdy, stable, steady, stationery, static
Only this erratic craving for intimacy
for eroticism, for something exotic
Walking on eggshells around me,
failing to notice that wherever I go,
I’m stepping on broken glass
Past a certain point, pollution
is no longer appealing
It becomes appalling, even if initially
you found it to be enthralling
Truthfully, no one wants to repair
this level of damage
What the hell do you mean “why?”