go quietly in the life you have been given.
2006-01-04 8:27 a.m.
if i start here, it will take me over an hourjust to finish. speak speak
until spoken to, and all that
jazz. all that
assumption. all that
insinuation
won't save your face in the last moments (aren't we all
just looking for a place to fit, a place to sit down and feel
superior, and feel
adequate as any other?)
sometimes, i think, we need to let
one flower make a garden up in maintenance, need to
let go of the ideals we've treasured, hungry for the meaning
we were taught for searching, this life, you see,
means nothing
means making up the story as you're going
so don't think there is some higher order that has bound us up together, i will give you
the persecution for which you begged me, holding tight
a year or longer
in hope of feeling righteous when the time came
for fighting
i will play the hand i have
been given, will be played into
great tragedy by manipulation, into
two way streets and sunday's traffic, avoiding
the places i know you might be
i will fall ill in the last minutes, anxious, listening
for your feet upon the front step, hoping
the god that you've created will give you some reprieve, will give me the option
of not forcing you to leave.