There's this wall
that I rythmically bash my
brains against, that I claw at time
and time again with bleeding fingers.
Through it now, she speaks to me,
it seems to me: so seductively,
she's asking me to whisper the million things
swirling `round in my head
of the billions of things I'd do
if we would or could just step through,
if one would make the move.
I'm choking again
on the swollen tongue I've been biting
reminding myself anything less than action amplifies
the need already burning up
what's left of my insides.
Sort of wicked and beautiful,
she's driving me insane, far past insane,
straight, shaking as I go, right on into
a state of intoxicated madness,
so close but so far from my old town
of sacred, divine insanity,
how I've missed this, how I've
missed me, but I'm still itching for
the animal to be let loose from the cage,
still forced to concede there's a sort of masochistic
pleasure in not being pleased right away:
or even never, yet even if the time comes,
it'll still seem like an eternity...
Waiting,
still hungry,
burning,
still bleeding:
first wanting,
now NEEDING,
a hundred excuses
now receeding:
my hands clawing
at the wall,
at the bars of my rusted cage,
my mouth whispers
sinister dreams
as I proceed bash in my brain.
that I rythmically bash my
brains against, that I claw at time
and time again with bleeding fingers.
Through it now, she speaks to me,
it seems to me: so seductively,
she's asking me to whisper the million things
swirling `round in my head
of the billions of things I'd do
if we would or could just step through,
if one would make the move.
I'm choking again
on the swollen tongue I've been biting
reminding myself anything less than action amplifies
the need already burning up
what's left of my insides.
Sort of wicked and beautiful,
she's driving me insane, far past insane,
straight, shaking as I go, right on into
a state of intoxicated madness,
so close but so far from my old town
of sacred, divine insanity,
how I've missed this, how I've
missed me, but I'm still itching for
the animal to be let loose from the cage,
still forced to concede there's a sort of masochistic
pleasure in not being pleased right away:
or even never, yet even if the time comes,
it'll still seem like an eternity...
Waiting,
still hungry,
burning,
still bleeding:
first wanting,
now NEEDING,
a hundred excuses
now receeding:
my hands clawing
at the wall,
at the bars of my rusted cage,
my mouth whispers
sinister dreams
as I proceed bash in my brain.
