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...the best independent ISP in the Twin Cities
The handcuffs are on
I swing, dirty and lost
Whites of my eyes are all you see
As I visit oblivion
If you cut me, I won't bleed
I'll just cry again
Based on a true story.
Sleep, child, visit happy places.
Don't wake up, don't look in the mirror.
You'll still be here.
I know I can smell you this time.
Feel like me for awhile
And informercials become your friends
Don't be scared, I won't hurt you
Blank paper, with lines, ain't blank
like my mind is now.
No ideas just
Who engineered this plan for me?
Riding off again into the battlefield,
Pushing and shoving to view the same discarded meat,
Knowing full well that I'll wake alone.
Finding out that I'm getting older.
Not finding anyone who can relate to me.
I let them in now, that's not the problem.
They just don't want to stay.
You were here one time and you never returned.
God, how I miss what you once were.
The compulsive procrastinator put off his love.
Schooled me in how to do the same.
"How to take something beautiful and make it scream."
Learning by example. My dad, the Jedi master.
Dad explained that he didn't love mom
And slipped me an official assassin's jumpsuit
And a handful of emotional time bombs.
He kissed me on the cheek and welcomed me.
For so long, I've waited to prove his lessons wrong.
To show that I would outgrow his teachings.
No disgrace in emotion, no problem with commitment.
How wrong I've become, how naive the child.
As I felt your skin beneath calloused fingertips,
Tracing your spine, your hips, your breasts.
Your eyes, pure grey, reflected my training.
For all I've given, got and want
Your breathing, whispering through my armory,
As I plant the charges and smell the shame.