Silent Invitation.
1/12/02
Damn it, I didn’t plan this.
I didn’t want this, I never evoked this.
I never invited this in,
what the fuck is it doing here
and why is nothing easy?
I’m rigid and you’re greasing up
yourself to slip on through.
I didn’t want this, my eye
lost sight of my True Eye, and I rebel
against my own self-punishment,
intoxicated by my anger
entranced by my depression
slamming my skull upon the wall
of my own fucking limitations,
cradling hope like an infant
but feeding it my poison
sorry child, it’s all I got to offer
I wish that I could nurture
I just want to fucking feel again
it’s like a fading memory
I try to grip a hold of something
dancing on the tip of my tongue
and slipping down my sore throat
heading to my chest to jab
the center and bring it down
to my stomach and twist it
in a knot and leave me feeling this
cramped, cold feeling where I’m lost to everything;
a blur, a shade drawn down over my eyes
twitching and convulsing, stuck between opening and closing.
Damn it, I didn’t want this.
What the hell is happening to me?
Kill me or aide me in recovery, don’t just leave me hanging,
I just can’t stand the dry, still paralysis of this morbid stagnation.
Who’s behind my wheel?
Who’s running my controls?
Can I even claim ownership anymore?
Is there anything of Me left but a faint whisper to save?
Doesn’t matter, for I can’t turn up the volume anyway.
Getting dimmer, quieter,
narrower, tighter,
getting less
getting less
Why can’t I help me
pull out of this?
getting less
getting less
and I swear I never wanted this
and that I never planned this, but
did I plan this and want this?
Did I send a silent invitation to you?
1/12/02
Damn it, I didn’t plan this.
I didn’t want this, I never evoked this.
I never invited this in,
what the fuck is it doing here
and why is nothing easy?
I’m rigid and you’re greasing up
yourself to slip on through.
I didn’t want this, my eye
lost sight of my True Eye, and I rebel
against my own self-punishment,
intoxicated by my anger
entranced by my depression
slamming my skull upon the wall
of my own fucking limitations,
cradling hope like an infant
but feeding it my poison
sorry child, it’s all I got to offer
I wish that I could nurture
I just want to fucking feel again
it’s like a fading memory
I try to grip a hold of something
dancing on the tip of my tongue
and slipping down my sore throat
heading to my chest to jab
the center and bring it down
to my stomach and twist it
in a knot and leave me feeling this
cramped, cold feeling where I’m lost to everything;
a blur, a shade drawn down over my eyes
twitching and convulsing, stuck between opening and closing.
Damn it, I didn’t want this.
What the hell is happening to me?
Kill me or aide me in recovery, don’t just leave me hanging,
I just can’t stand the dry, still paralysis of this morbid stagnation.
Who’s behind my wheel?
Who’s running my controls?
Can I even claim ownership anymore?
Is there anything of Me left but a faint whisper to save?
Doesn’t matter, for I can’t turn up the volume anyway.
Getting dimmer, quieter,
narrower, tighter,
getting less
getting less
Why can’t I help me
pull out of this?
getting less
getting less
and I swear I never wanted this
and that I never planned this, but
did I plan this and want this?
Did I send a silent invitation to you?
