Now that she’s out of my head for good, I can post this. Rock on.This is a piece intended to be rapped to a rather dark beat, and I just never got around to it because I’m a loser and I don’t have any friends who make beats. HAH.It’s about a girl that I don’t much care for anymore, but I’m really proud of the work and didn’t want to post it until it didn’t mean anything to me anymore. Enjoy.
(if you read this, I finally got you out of my head.)
You’re the reason for the sadness in the songs I sing,
a long-time king dethroned by a soft-eyed queen
and as I removed the crown, I heard the near-soothing sound
of memory bleakly telling me “we ruled this town.”
And now it’s just you, a single parliamentary figure
with your kingdom (ours was meant to be bigger)
but we stopped building the same day you stopped fighting;
I’m sorry I couldn’t decorate the war to be more inviting.
The battlefield was a wet one, and we slipped and fell
starting more projects than we could get done.
The pen doesn’t mark the paper it doesn’t touch;
I tried to guide your stride with my faith, but that wasn’t much.
I buttoned up as you anchored down,
but perseverence doesn’t mean shit in this Quaker town.
Maybe the big city showed you the future a bit prettier,
but closed quarters only makes shit shittier.
(I built a wall around my heart out of bricks
and laced the blood with a gallon from the River of Styx.
When the angel came knockin’, thought the Devil might win,
but she huffed, and she puffed, and she blew my heart in.)
You’re the reason that I don’t get my sleep in the PM.
By the time the light shines, I can hardly carpe diem
always up all night, replaying the same scenes
envisioning postions I’ll revisit in my daydreams.
But that reality died a long time ago,
the very moment you decided I was unrefinable.
So much for do not judge lest ye be judged,
the ink inside your reliable Bible must’ve smudged.
Remember God can’t fix the flaws of man,
and I’ll admit in spite of my suffering, I’m a closet fan.
But whether referring to character or manuscript,
the problems stand and a holy man can’t do shit.
Remember not to let faith blindly guide you,
those footprints in the sand are from my ghost right beside you
and I’ll find you in your dreams when my time here is finished.
This is more than just a love song, it’s my triad, diminished.
(I know I could’ve saved it if I would’ve tried harder,
and when I breathe my very last, they’ll say I died a martyr.
I pulled down her garter, she tugged on my heartstrings.
Caring is easy, but separation’s a hard thing.)
You’re the reason that my hands are fucking shaking as I write this
I’m scared of this darkness and I can’t find a lightswitch
I’m nervous that I might twitch and release the grief with a knife switch
You heard me 100% right, bitch.
You know I don’t like this, but all I have left is the truth
and I’ll hang on by the skin of my last tooth.
When all is said and done, go ahead and take me away
But I’ve got a lot to do and so much more to say.
How you could tell me you love me,
then position yourself a mile above me?
The taste in my mouth isn’t funny, and trust me,
my feelings from you went from lovely to ugly.
From sunny to muggy.
When you see me in person I hope you feel lucky
when popular bloody consensus
predicts that my actions will send you off running.
(And yet contrarily, I can’t stop caring.
I wrote your name on the tag of the funeral tux I’ll be wearing.
You’re the reason for the demons in my head,
and when they finally win,
you’ll be the reason that I’m dead.)
08-09
