Monday, January 18, 2010

Foreign



I wrote this poem for those people who have been in this position. A year ago, I decided I was going to do things different and wouldn't return to these emotion. I've have change my external world, but on the inside I still struggle with these feelings. I have no reason to write them but they still sit there. A wise man told me "Life is not a destination, it's a journey," so I keep walking in hopes that in this journey I find sanity.


We stand here at the precipice
I'm one step from another slit wrist
You're one step from another hissy fit
Can't keep repeating the same mistakes
But every time seems like another retake
We started ok, then end in a delay
Always ending with us being afraid
Afraid to change our past habits
The ones that left past discretion tragic
The feelings that make us look past it
As if they had never happened
I can't remain the same, doing it different
Too busy talking to have time to listen
How could I do things different when I'm always right
thinking I'm the beginning and end of the fight
Seeing us in action is scary cause one minute we're friends
Then enemies, then back bends, then lost energy spent
Is it cause I'm scared to sleep alone than atone
Leader of none and king of no throne
I always reaped what I sowed
A hot head that loves to be near the stove
Standing in the kitchen with a heart so cold
I don't know when things will change
I just know that these pains are stained
I've been here before and vowed I wouldn't return
Then I'm found in the candle light during the slow burn

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Now playing: Slaughterhouse - Cuckoo (Produced By DJ Khalil)

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