Colored @ MindSay

This is a prophesy a soliloquy of the memory of children three so small and frightened lost and heightened senses tighten muscle spasms so sad the alley ways filled with phantoms and little eyes they cry so brown like the shit of the earth they were told they were fighting for nothing fighting for something to give to the little brother hiding trying so hard to keep him from crying can't let your father prying hunting for the alcohol that fuels him and cools him and eats him then beats him till he's bleeding and he's guilty for the masochism we believe in so try the schism it's delicious.

Hero worship gets you no where and I'm here to tear the facades amongst the applause and fuck your religion the reason given for so much livin' with no accountability as you push us back down into the dirt where it hurts wrong side of the tracks and we're back and we have guns so many fucking guns to shun your way of life the strife you caused we're lost in a sea of anger and twisting the fists you threw in our faces when we asked you for help you called us whelps we're your fucking children why do you ignore us why do you throw us to the floor and ask for more than what we can give?

History and mystery and Listerine drowning the promises you never meant to keep you're cheap you used me used us to thrust you into success on our backs but we were the shadows we were the hallows the gallows the city swung by and darkening your doorstep with the anarchy you knew was coming the king of the next Roman Empire filled to the brim with broken homes.

I see it now reaching down to cup the wide-eyed future generation so innocent never meant to feel the flint nor the steel sparking the downfall of integrity and we are the degradation of society the slow unraveling of propriety and these kids so beautiful the minority of English speakers and broken homes and class distinction and absolution is never coming because the anti Christ is alive in every single middle class crass mouthed brass housed brat never had to work for nothing never had to work for the love of a mother that was never home and a father that never existed never twisted the cap onto the bottle always off always frothed always bleeding the poison he never would admit was killing our visions of God.

This is the message
The only hope that the next generation has
This is the people
Of the past telling you to learn from our mistakes
It's a vicious theory
Circling back to eat ourselves alive
History repeats itself but we don't have to...

And it's like the world is swimming around me, crawling beneath my skin like maggots, eating the flesh so dead and so unclean and my skin sags until it eventually melts off entirely and I am lifeless, nothing but the framework of what used to be an empire. So many things that I'm so desperately sorry for but I was right from the beginning and I hate to say I told you so, but I was right, our worlds could never mix and they never will. I come from a world of shadows, built in darkness so that you can have your light, so that you can enjoy your sunshine. Someone has to be the other end of the scale and that's where we stand, in the shadows, in the rain in the middle of the roads, that's where we stand, as one, united in a way that you only wish you could be.

You've never known the bonds of brotherhood so strong that you can't breathe until you know they're alright, you've never known the confusion and the numbness you feel when there is so much blood and not all of it is your's but you don't care, you can't feel a thing. You've never known the agony of watching the atrocity of a murder, what's more, the murder victim being someone so near and dear to your heart you called him brother. I have witnessed and committed things that even your worst nightmares can't do justice to.

Do you know who I am? Do you see my shadow on your walls at nights, watching over you, trying to make sure you're alright? Can you hear your name on my lips as I barrel down the streets, my shoes making a sick slapping noise on the wet sidewalk, trying ever harder to get away from you and closer to you at the same time? Can you see the paradox I'm in, being torn apart and twisted in a sick cacophony of bone on bone and the scream of steel and wet muscle? Can you feel the regret, washing over you, emanating from me and my dissociative behavior disorders rippling across the waves and the winds to bring you the salty sweet smell of my unshed tears and wishing you were here, and wishing you understood because maybe, maybe if someone from your world of light understood someone from my world of dark we could bridge the gap and create a world of grays so beautiful and so wonderful that eventually it becomes a world of whites...

My fingertips so close to redemption, so close to wrapping around that ball of hope and being lifted out of the mires of misunderstanding and harsh words, but it's too far, just too far out of my grasp and I plummet back, watching your beautiful eyes so full of confusion and hurt and anger at being betrayed and I wish you could understand that this isn't my fault, that this is my fault for making so many promises to you but they were promises I could never possibly fulfill and how is that my fault? I can feel myself bursting from my chest, skin slick with sweat and scratched and welted from my shattered rib cage, concussive force meant to dwarf your memories of who I used to be and who you thought I was. Let me go quietly back into my shadows.

I'm sorry for ever bothering you. Forget I exist.

And I know, I know it's just a game of hide and seek with my emotions darting around the corner with a flurry of leaves and snow drifts and I've never had the energy to hunt them down and sew them back into me again before now. Good morning good morning good morning and you're not leading me on, not intentionally, and really, who's fault is it more, your's for leading me or mine for letting myself be led? So lead away my friends, lead lead lead but I won't be following anymore.

Standing up, and can you see the dust shake from my bones and the flesh crawl to reattach my ligaments for use? Can you see the skin form and harden like wax on my muscles? Watch my flesh suddenly take color as the blood begins to flow and see me, all encompassing, shudder with a gasping breath and my eyes roll forward from the back of my head to focus on you and listen to me stretch my neck and smile at you. I'm not much in the way of a person, but I'm everything in the ways of a entrance.

Everything is going to be alright. No matter what happens, I still have five years from now to look forward to. I don't know what the future holds for me but I know I'm going to be there, standing tall with my head held high looking for it.

Her birthday present has begun. It took me hours just to get the first one right and I'm worried that the rest of them will not turn out that well but it takes time and patience and of both, I am developing plenty. I hope all is well in your universe, dear reader. I hope there is no tar in your heart. No ire in your mind.

Sweet dreams with angel dust.

It's the intricate lie building everything else on top of itself and I know you don't believe me when I say I'm wonderful and I'm glad, I'm glad you don't believe me because that means you know me well enough to know when I'm lying, trying to hide myself from the universe in all of the intricate galaxies of my mentalities, and I can't seem to stay in one state of mind with it all behind me or at least I'm trying.

At least I'm trying.

Soul stitches severed from every human being I've ever known except for the ones who have never hurt me, and I'll always pick drinking with my friends over being heartbroken because of your liposuctioned words, so carefully laced with all the eggshells you didn't break trying to keep me in one piece when all I wanted was to be shattered once and for and for good and I don't care that I'm heartbroken because of you, what I care about is that I care so much about you.

The worst part about all of this, is you'll never read these words I pour into the atmosphere, philosophizing and giving you all of myself in as many fragmented sentences strung together to create something tragically beautiful, so serious so serious so we're not a comedy, but you're not here to watch me perform to the slow beat of the people passing me by as I stand quiet and poised on the street corner of WhereAreYou and HowLongWillThisLast the world made of so many shades of gray and it's all ash, it's all ash being muddled and ruined in the rain pattering across the valley of my mind. So quiet, the teacher hands me a shovel and tells me to dig, that's it's the only way I'll find peace is to bury myself alive in search of Wonderland six feet below the ground.

Is anyone watching the slow self-destruction of this human being so congruent to the intricacies of the threadwork holding me here...? Am I just a spectacle, truly alone and unknowing, so ignorant in my defense against my own feelings because who better to wage warfare on me but myself?

Who better to wage warfare on me but myself...

Such thorough destruction, I've covered all my bases, and candy-apple eyes, you win. I quit. I don't want to play anymore. I really am going to disappear for a little while, and unless you are within the circle of my boys (you know who you are) don't expect to hear from me for a while.

I'm going to let my mind sleep for a little while.

Question my existence every day that I wake up, still alive, still breathing. Existential crisis and what's the point of getting out of bed and trying to be worth anything at all? Pirroette into a tailspin, fishtail on the highway and I'm in first gear going backwards and I'm grinning the whole way as the headlights swell to epic proportions in my rearview mirror and it's a disheveled grin on my face that alerts you to my lack of sanity. I'm gripping at my temples, raking my scalp trying to rip these thoughts from my mind, trying to rip any thoughts from my mind and sink to the oblivion of nothingness. Good morning world, I'm here to flex my muscles and pretend I'm everything you've ever wanted and that I'm better than you, better than needing you, better than wanting you and it's my old standby to take me away and to fix my problems when I'm down and I can't handle what's going on.

Time for a revolution.

Rise, rise from beneath the shifting sands, from beneath the mud where the world treads, from beneath the dirt where the world buried us, from beneath the tar where the world tried to forget us. Crack the ground in a thousand pieces because we are the reason why the world gets water in the first place, so let's start a drought, lets dry up the earth and remind the assholes of the world we're here, because unlike you you sanctimonious bastards, we believe in honor. We believe in life, liberty, in love, always in love. We are the bohemians. We are the hotel suicides and the guys who maintain your high powered sprayers. We are the plumbers and the RV salesmen. We are the scum of the earth, the dirt beneath your fingernails and the reason why you shower extra hard after walking through the mall wearing that sexy skirt for that special someone. We are the cogs in your clock, the greasy and unattractive buildup of all of the gears in the world.

We'll crack your cognitive preconceptions of ignorance and all of your safety blankets and comfort zones.

Time for a revolution.

Crack. Crack. Crack.

An explosion.

We're here.