Monday, April 4, 2016

Divine

There's been a monster in the pressure cooker inside of my head, trying to bust it open before he gets dead. For years he's had free reign tormenting me so I locked him inside, cranked to 1000 degrees. 

The relief valve is broken, temperature's rising, aluminum swelling, soon shrapnel' start flying. Ripping through innocents, guilty don't matter, he's an equal opportunity master of disaster. The epic battle keeps raging, Banner vs Batman, Bruce vs Bruce, I need the fucking hulk to show up, choke him till he turns blue. 

I've been trying to kill him before he kills me, but this plague is a goonie, he refuses to leave. Never say die, maybe I'll say it first, sick and tired of this fight as it only gets worse - the sitrep forecast is "motherfucking scorched earth"
I put on a smile like nothing is wrong, exhale the smoke I just took in from my bong. Blow it up my own ass till I've got rectal cancer, I'm a walking, talking, shit-storm disaster. 

Go down to the store and pick up the gun, the demon may have done it, finally won - a cocked .45 pressed against my head I'm heading for the precipice, soon I'll be dead. Out in the woods away from it all, no stupid last prayer, let the chips fall. A little pull on the trigger, spray my brains on the leaves, it's the only way I know to stop the pain that I see. Food for worms seems a fitting end for the criminal that I clearly must have been. 

Am I paying for crimes I did in the past, or do I just unwittingly fuck myself in the ass? Is it all my own fault or is this just life? God must be an asshole to allow all this strife. 
I can't remember the sins, I can't do more time, apologies ignored, life in the pen has me slowly, painfully dying. 

A Möbius strip of sentences served, and all I can do is write down these words. Turn these bars into bars, jot down the lines, little paragraphs fall out of the holes in my mind, 
It's the only relief I can seem to achieve, that and smoking copious trees. 

One last hole and it all will fall out, "fuck the universe" I'll scream just before blood pours down. Maybe I'll be free in the darkness as nothing - but more likely I'll wake up somewhere else suffering. 

It's the juxtaposition of the things that I learned, clashing like Titans with an alien world. I'm the warden, the judge, convict and victim trapped a prison of invisible distinctions. Nothing is real or at all as it seems but I can't seem to wake up from this horrible dream. 

I've got an antenna plugged in straight to my heart picking up the pain of life in HD 3D, like living with an untreatable STD. 
Stabbing away at my heart as I watch the world slowly decay, feeling impotent to help wipe it away. Viagra and Xanax just blast white noise but I don't want to be like all the rest of the boys. Falling into the well, with mossy sides, I slip when I climb, scream for help from outside. 

No one responds, they're as fucked up as me, or there in the darkness whispering "that's just life, let it be". 
I've been treading so long I don't want to care but I keep finding myself gasping for air. 

I've even tried to will my heart to stop beating but it has a mind of its own, guess it can't quit taking a beating. Maybe it knows something that I can't seem to grasp, I wish the curtain would open, see the wizard at last. 

This all is a hoax, one grand illusion, spinning our wheels on this road of fucked up delusion. One day I'll sit down on the side of the highway / watching insanity whiz by going nowhere fast, I'm falling down the rabbit hole through the looking glass. Can't turn around or ever look back, I've been warped by life like Wikipedia facts. Unknown unknowns, boondocks boondoggle, wish I could stop feeling so hollow. 

Tripping to leave reality behind, delving deeper and deeper, into recesses of my mind. Looking for love, finding hope in the search, a few hours of relief from this psychotic earth. Cut down the ego with a psychedelic sword, katana Cortana execute that voice in my ward.
Gain root access slice off every line, the programming corrupted, now I'm taking the vine, mother and serpent speak to the soul, finding peace in the utter lack of control. 

Laying there crying feeling completely alone, flashback to childhood - abused, confused, just wanting a home. To feel loved and wanted by someone on the outside, intense self hatred brings the tears to my eyes. 

Observing myself, observing the world, in a flash it makes sense - as my history unfolds. All the shit that brought so many scars, was a breadcrumb trail, heaven and hell aren't that far - apart, cause the separation is in me / I am the Doctor able to cure this disease, it's a choice to accept and love myself completely. 

Are all of the faces I couldn't seem to see really just parts of my subconsciousness being? In their eyes I see pain and shame reflected at me because they seem to get it while inside I scream. Why did this happen? Why didn't someone step in and save me from this existence that feels like two feet in a grave?

Then I start laughing because nothing matters, I've been the captain of this ship rowing like a slave, for years mastered. We imprison ourselves chasing peace in our hearts by using others until we realize it's theft that got all of this started. Eat from the tree that's forbidden and tempting, knowing it exists makes us feel somehow empty. 

But the fruit sours after it passes the tongue, oh my god, what the fuck have I just done? Now I'm sorry for all of my misguided choices, I just want to be whole at peace with my voice. We all keep fucking up until we discover that the need can't be met by any others. 

Everyone's puking but I can't purge, I guess it's because I'm going to vomit out words. Spit from a heart that was broken and bleeding, "one step at a time", I keep on repeating. 

Let the pain rest with understanding from the vine till it one day ferments into a wine - I've got nothing to hide its all in this bottle, finally uncorked to share with a smile. Once I've grasp how to save myself, maybe I'll have a chance to help saving the world from its hell. 

In the beginning was the word and the word was with God, it's the labels we use that define who we are. Creating ourselves, fates' in our hand, I'm no Jesus Christ but I'm taking a stand. We're as good and as loved as we choose the be, the devil and God are potential inside every being. It's just a bad dream and when you wake up, your eyes will open, no more screwing them shut. 

Fling open the shutters that cover the soul, you've got this, you're a champion, you're worth more than gold. Never give up, don't fucking quit, give yourself a new name, a definition that fits. 

I'm a fugitive from the status quo but I'm done running from myself, there's no place left to go / no height nor depth, creatures or bars can separate us from the love that is inside our own hearts. 

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