beauty pinned in a box

Pour-pour-pour

until my memory flows

black with the silence

where nobody goes.

Just give me more-more-more

and no I don’t wanna talk

I don’t wanna turn back

like these hands on the clock.

There’s always something else

another book on the shelf

it’s either fact or fiction

neither one’s any help.

Cause really I’d rather not

and I can’t bear the thought

all these wheels turning

but mine never shut off.

They say to walk the walk

if you’re gonna talk

always hateful and violent

beauty pinned in a box.

They were such delicate wings

see that sweet little thing

that you nurse like a virus

that could never be me.

So I just pour-pour-pour

and I quit asking what for

everything for a reason

not all reason makes sense.

If I’m half truth and fake

how much more would it take

to convince you I’m bad news

I’m your biggest mistake.

So give me more-more-more

things eventually bore

and all this method acting’s

become more like a chore.

See there’s this figure eight

I’m ruled and can’t escape

like the number thirteen

I see all over the place.

I’ve learned it’s better to walk

for miles— comfort —in thought

leaving alone the people

happier when you’re not,

around like a clown

bringing everyone down

I’m not bitter I’m better

glad to sit this one out.

So just go-go-go

go-go-go-go-go

go-go-go-go-go-go-go

go-go-go-go-go.

taking the cuffs off

What’s the point in saying anything

with so much more to say

than what you’re actually saying

you just kind of don’t think you do anymore

or perhaps you haven’t found the right words

because I could go on all day about it

so don’t lie to me kiddo

I could punch all the mirrors in the world

but it wouldn’t make a difference either way

that’s just a cop out and I’m taking the cuffs off.

it happens all the time

tell someone

you love

a simple truth

and watch

while they

twist

and disfigure

your trust

until it is

so unrecognizable

you can’t help

but help them

pick apart

every last piece

of flesh and goodwill

until there is

nothing left

but the laughter

of strangers

Good riddance.

Can you hear me now?

Yes,

now that we have stopped talking.

Good.

Yes.

Things have never been so good.

 

You’re never completely alone.

Allow me my sadness today.

We can talk tomorrow.

As you walk away, we

die a little more – separate machines.

But take care knowing, if

you decide to speak.

We can talk today.

Always.