the eyes can see like hands.

"what did you tell that man? he's a clever man, did you know? i bet he works for the government. and i know you know i know i can't control thoughts of things i need. i believe everyone needs some encouragement."

`

some encouragement.

some encouragement.

some encouragement.

come on, encouragement.

the revelated mysteries.

some suicides are never recorded. they tell us that it's a sacrifice and we will not die in vain, but i'm not lost in the brainwashed frenzy like the rest of them. i've seen what happens. it's a social aspect really; the less fortunate, less worthwhile. they are relentless and not one thing will stand in their way. no challenge is put up. we're required to put in a circular window with specifications to the millimeter. that's how they get in.

at least you're warned. the letter is a death sentence, but you cannot show your angst, your fright. we're made not to show our expressions. there are no colors outside of the gray spectrum. there are a limited supply of all rations so no social change is supposed to occur, but i know. i know because i once lived outside. i secretly immigrated in, but i digress...

they pull you, grope you, scratch till you're through the circular window. the 'store house' is a seven minute walk from all buildings. design is a large specification here. you'll be drug down the brick laid street. the curtains close, the doors fasten, you go to the south side of your house because it's known that you don't stare. i've seen it multiple times. once to the storehouse you're stripped, cleansed, shaven. not an impurity in sight. you lie down in the room specified to you at birth. you lay as they flog and trounce you only until you're prepared. you're brought before our masted and then, you're gone.

it's a sacrifice. i've been told that they teach you from speaking age. your first words, your first salute. a sacrifice! a sacrifice! there is not sacrifice here, only figmented loyalty. i've longed emigrate back out. however, my letter arrived yesterday.

the moon glows.

without you the ground thaws,

the rain falls, the grass grows

without you the seeds root,

the flowers bloom, the children play,
the stars gleam, the poets dream, the eagles fly

without you the earth turns, the sun burns,

but i die without you.

without you the breeze warms,

the girl smiles, the cloud moves

without you the tides change,

the boys run, the oceans crash

the crowds roar, the day soars, the babies cry

without you the moon glows, the river flows,

but i die without you.

the world revives, colors renew,

but i know blue, only blue,

lonely blue, within me blue

without you the hand gropes,

the ear hears, the pulse beats

without you the eyes gaze,

the legs walk, the lungs breathe

the mind churns, the heart yeans, the tears dry

without you life goes on, but i'm gone.

'cause i die without you,

without you, without you.

-rent.

a windmill of chances.

the man stood in front of the table, his sad hands folded neatly in front of him, placed accurately just beyond the edge as to seem accustomed to doing so. she couldn't help to think that she had succumb to what she wanted least.

he knew all about her. he had known since before she had known. she portrayed herself as strong willed and independent, but he knew. she fell away to every politic pressure. he stared at her and knew she couldn't see him. she could see him, but she couldn't see him. she blinked and eyes watering in recollection. she was here by accident, it was all and accident. if only she could have retracted. if only her shoes had been untied, or her mother rand. there's no 'if only' in life though you go and live and what happens, happens no matter how fucked up it is.

he saw her begin to weep. he knew, he was there. he also knew it was going to happen. it was bound to happen, but he knew. she looked across the table and delicately studied his features. he seemed so familiar as if she hadn't seem him in years. she hadn't seen him in years, not since her father died at least, since she gave up. he longed for her to see him! he pursued, but she rejected, rejoiced in others.

she couldn't tell where she was, didn't know where she was going, but she noticed a familiar scar from the incident which she began to tear at with her teeth.

the highway goes west.

i curse a lot. i curse you.

i speak often. i speak of you.

i cry too much. i cry about you.

i am longing. i long for you.

i waste my days. i wait for you.

i am pathetic. i look pathetically distressed.

i wish too much. i wish it came true.

i wish it wasn't true.

i swear loads. i swore it was you.

i get desperate. only for you.

i get fucked over and can't shut off my thoughts.

i write down every lyric that sounds like you.

i become a mess that you don't want to clean up.

enough is enough, but enough isn't fair.

my hands are cold and i'm tired of rambling madness, nothingness. get some sleep tonight, catch up for the lost hour, and stop thinking.

the streams will be railways.

you cannot hurt me here. bring your army and bring your navy. bring your cancerous cells and bring your wailing children. bring your dying, your weak, your wounded. bring your remarks, your cackles, your snide insults. bring me your god damn economy and your empty wallets. bring all of your homeless, helpless, starving. it doesn't matter because i have nothing left to give you. bring me your long working hours and your unpaid debts. bring me your cheap chicks. bring me your restlessness and sleepless nights. bring your unsmoked cigarettes and cheap beer. bring me your embrace, your kisses, your thoughts. bring me your memories and your untouched skin. bring me everything i longed for because it does not matter. i can and i will fall time and time again. i will make mistakes, but you cannot redeem yourself. you cannot hurt me here.

a tango with chance.

"i want to know where children would go if they never learned to be cool because nothing's achieved when pushed up a sleeve till nobody thinks you're a fool."

it's all about perspective in this wondrous devastating oracle we live in. i'm considering living in a house with one-way-only mirrors for walls so i can dance to you, but i won't see when you get bitter. i want to grow tall, metaphorically. i'll play your games, but you better run fast when i'm the one with the stick in hand.