Augment my reaction. I wish not to be human.
I’ve hidden my soul in hopes that I might find a new one.
I’ll sign my will and waiver I wish to become clean.
strip the flesh, what’s left of it, turn me into a machine.
Remove my human heart, it’s weight is the world and more on my shoulders.
It wears my battle scars proudly of the war I fought with loves soldiers.
Replace it with fire, fuel for the motors,
to keep the cogs turning, they spin like a single-action.
Bone and blood that hold me together,
replaced by alloy that can withstand the weather,
this storm I asked you to dance in,
the rain that will come and the snow that has fallen,
will cover my escape. And I’ve seen lies in many shapes,
but yours is in the form of a poison,
love like venom and I drank without a reason.
Death to this body, my handcrafted cage,
replaced with lifeless metal that rusts away with age.
I’ve become a monster, a state-of-the-art machine.
My eyes have lost their colour, but I have not forgotten what I’ve seen.
And you bury your head in my steel chest,
my reading indicates your heart is broken.
I swear to God that these wires are for the best,
do you still regret the “words that went unspoken”?
Your eyes closed but your arms are still around me,
your tears are burning through the metal that hides my fragile circutry.
Flashes of light, long talks on school nights, was there ever a thing so pure?
Did I forget anything, a time when life itself didn’t sing, for us and our cause that we fought for?
I am electric, mechanical thought.
Fire to the touch and ice to those that have not.
Such as the void that is space,
I wish to be warmed by the touch of the sun,
look at the stars, meet them face-to-face.
There remains my humainity,
built on lies that I want to keep hearing.
Like a dream that you pretend to remember,
such are your words which are so painfully endearing.
And I do not belong here,
a machine of my kind has little to love but much to fear,
my wires force me to rotate, I run when I reach your axis,
you assumed that I have left your world,
but darling I have become your Atlas.
Black dots walkin round the surface of the sun,
Waiting for somebody to tell me “go up there and catch one.”
So ill take an interstellar subway going anywhere.
I just want to wander the void with my earbuds in,
Walk the milky way with my ipod playing.
I’ve seen several dark years but all that i’m saying,
is how dark does it have to be before it starts raining?
How lost should I get before I start praying?
Its black out here but I still see the blood on my hands.
The void of space,
the cosmic flames,
Burning my skin away to lay my soul bare.
See it? It’s just laying there.
Expiring, tiring, tired of inactivity due to faulty wiring.
Built to break stuff, is any body hiring?
Family pictures are a liars thing.
No one is really like that, right?
Can there really be that much love and trust under one roof?
Can living people all exist in the same room?
Dont heroes always run away? No really though, dont they?
Dont their footsteps call to you?
Dont they beg for you to follow suit?
Doesn’t a single emotion turn into raging gasoline ocean that swallows you?
Frozen in terror that a spark might land.
So reserved that you forgot about the match in your hand.
So perturbed that you can’t see the shore for the sand,
just the edge of the pier where your hero stands.
Skipping stones as the tide crashes hard against the jetti.
Sharp rocks and stones, like a tribal serengeti.
Colored ribbon, crepe paper and lots of confetti.
You got a long way to walk before you hit the frontier.
You cant come home,
you’re an indentured pioneer.
You made your fortunes as a pirate, myself a privateer.
If I see you in port ill buy you a beer,
but on the raging seas of helpless pleas for you to come home,
you are not a friendly here.
I will blow your ship apart, your plunder distributed evenly,
I will let your crew die but pull you from the sea,
to give you this one chance to explain yourself to me.
Did you break this family.
Explain that to me.
Explain that to an infant sister, who forever cries and just hopes you miss her.
Explain that to two broken hearted parents,
a mom and dad that sent you money for rent because they loved their oldest son too much to worry that he might be out on the street out there.
Explain yourself to erick and carey and me.
Brother 2 sister 1 and brother 3.
seven ten and barely sixteen.
Then again, you were only seventeen.
Let’s just start at the beginning.
Tell me everything.
Stretching for miles,
this was once an ocean.
Ultimate containment of black emotion.
Close my eyes,
cope with frostbite.
Careful, there are ghosts ‘round here.
The air hums.
Here the shadows lead, the people follow.
You know they follow you home?
The dark goes wherever the light goes.
Absent of dreams and aspirations,
Children raise their own.
A half-step generation.
Age fourteen and now a mother.
The same was true of her parents,
Fourteen years before her.
This evil is a new breed.
Mutation of a dejected generation,
coming forth near the expiration of the dragons rule.
Born of the hatred towards those adopted into a new family.
Among those numbers I ask that you count me.
See, I am not of this country but a kingdom.
I belong to a great father.
I answer to NO other.
I trouble to think of any other life.
My experiences with such are a step through a puddle.
A splash of black on a white robe adorned with gold, so undeserved and unsubtle.
The love my father burns with for me?
It is extravagant.
Beautiful and powerful.
It robs me of all articulation.
For I lack the literary prowess to truly describe this,
Or even half-truly explain what Glory has accomplished.
I know freedom,
but only after knowing chains.
I know no fear,
but remember hiding in my room for many years.
I have known tears as scars danced their ways across my wrists.
Blood that fell and the pieces of me that broke,
among them my heart that I counted lost,
My Father kept.
They remain intact.
He put me together and my bones connect.
All on account of Christ Jesus resurrect.
I am free.
The dark is only insufficient light by which to see.
It exists not in essence.
You embrace me here, and there can be none in your presence.
But you revelate this to me.
There is no dark, as there is no cold.
Absence of light, absence of heat.
Their hearts are cold and scared yet they hide them from me.
They find strange addictions in their lacking.
Through their wicked ways they find paths away from me.
I have given you a fire. The essence of light and heat.
Go forth child, love of mine. Go forth and light fires.
Arson! Arson! of the Great Divine!
Living sacrifice to the Lord most high!
You burn with glory, your love incinerates.
Flames dance, consume eternity.
Time is coming to an end and your glory?
So. So close.
I long to get lost in it. For my spirit to be loose.
My heart takes flight to one thought alone.
As my father as your son, I want to embrace you.
Apostate of a legalistic faith,
I’ve had quite enough of this.
There’s been far too much of this foolishness.
There is no foundation,
your words are founded on sensation,
where is the grasp of biblical truth?
There is no longer one.
People no longer seem to care about the bible.
Many seem to choose a more “what feels right” method of survival.
There is no “absolute truth” in their “humble opinions,”
they cling to the tide line of a more relevant salvation,
moving here and there, to and fro, finding new ways to make war a vacation.
The irony is that we are losing a battle that we have already won.
The outcome has been decided though a few things are not set in stone.
The number of casualties, just for instance, can still rise and fall.
Who will fight on? Who will be lost? Or will the crowds of heaven be a single file line? The gates of hell waiting with a line to get in? The wretched cells packed to maximum occupancy? The only entry fee: sin.
Imagine for a sec, a man in captivity. Kidnapped, so to speak. At the hands of cruel tormentors.
As an experiment, they give him very small doses of poison, but they mask the poison with a very sweet taste. The small dose of poison only makes him sick, but he’s unaware that he’s actually consuming poison.
Over time, his captors gradually increase his dosage more and more as his tolerance builds. They also increase the sweetness of the poison. He becomes addicted to the substance. He likes it.
One day he makes the realization that he’s been drinking poison, and in a momentary epiphany realizes he must leave. He makes a daring escape and is free. He tells his friends and loved ones about the poison, and they obviously tell him to never touch it again. But he soon realizes that a lack of the substance leaves him sick. So he begins to drink the poison again. He cannot live without it in his system, but everytime he drinks it, it pains him inside, as it eats through body. Burning him. Killing him. He understands that he is literally drinking poison, but he cant shake that need for it. That inability to wipe it from his life and start anew, let himself heal. Instead he drinks poison as a connection to that time of captivity.
No one will get what im saying here.
This one here is a blank page,
A give-all give-everything,
from a bankrupt heart,
a minimum-wage outpouring.
This is the alarm clock with a broken snooze,
here to stop your snoring!
I am for once trying to get this in your head.
This will kill her, as if she weren’t already dead.
When you broke her, did you even think twice?
Or is that concept foreign?
Let me splash you with some chlorine,
sans water. Maybe that’ll wake you up.
Wait up, I can see you stayed up,
kept her waiting, well wait, it’s time you payed up.
It’s about time you shaped up,
you treat it like a game, I think you’ve played enough.
You’re a stray, worth nothing. She’s a treasure.
You like to say your words mean something, but they’re just trade for pleasure.
You’ve got a broken foundation.
Dig it up, rip it out, lay another and rebuild.
You better shake things around so hard that the earth is gonna stand still.
Open doors, make her know she’s yours, make that open chorus of angels play for her, so she knows it’s hers.
Make the only meaningful thing in your whole life ever, mean something, make it be the kind of thing that is forever. Forever and something.
Redefine forever and make it mean something.
First rule, you lie to me, you die to me.
When I give you everything, you take it, keep it, walk away and dont say goodbye to me?
You better keep walking.
Shut you’re mouth, start talking.
Can you take a drink of honesty?
You were never this to me.
You were worth more than a lot to me, in a way no other ever could be.
Goddess to nothing.
Shuffling around with your tounge between your teeth.
Oh yeah? That’s really something.
Yeah I hear you I hear you,
But did you think maybe its your fault?
You tell lies, you shy far from where you should be. Yet you cry and try to tell me about how everything would be,
The problem is always he?
Repeat after me.
“I, myself did this. I broke it. Broke him and choked it, no air, suffocated him and left his body there.
The problem is me.”
I’m not mad any more, shocked and had, what was any of this for?
Every time, you waste me. Hopes up, heart open, you cut and berrate me.
It’s like you hate me.
I dont trust you.
Lied to, since the day I was born.
Learned to never trust anyone ever,
You seemed to be an exception.
You were not.
Time and again, you left me cut to the wrist, stabbed in the back, you put a pistol to the back of my head and you shot.
Your guns been knocked away.
I just played along and let you talk away. Watching your lie play out like broadway.
Why don’t you keep on walking.
You lied to me.
Lines, lines once drawn,
by a spring assist pin with a double-edged tip.
Dreams and pictures are gone,
That were played-out and drawn on the skin.
Erased, wiped away.
Your body is a blank page.
Your fingertips the instruments of rage, orchestrating every single word you say.
Once the victim, left a few inches from becoming a martyr, these times in your life are only getting harder, but you’re stronger now. Your scars are gone, you sing songs, no longer do you draw lines and buy clothes just to hide them in.
Put the pen away.
You’re whole again.
When was the last time you loved anything? Anything at all.
When was the last time breathing mattered? When did it begin to seem unatural?
Can you trace your name in the dust? Oh God they’ve broken you. Your body is covered, head-to-toe, rust.
But i’ll be the one last person you can trust.
Amidst falling stars and burning buildings, snowy fields and forest clearings,
We can walk. We can just walk.
Say anything you want and I will listen, because you deserve the chance to talk. Just talk about anything.
Every word is worth more to me than gold.
I still treasure every story that you’ve ever told.
You still mean more than the rest of the world.
You still mean more.