THE SENSES

JULY 12. 2006
1:32 pm


from a blog of a fucked up person like me....feelings, so familiar...thoughts, so similar...


what is it exactly you want me to say?
That I’m happy and joyous things turned out this way?
You may think its over and my bad thoughts are gone
but inside I’m dying, weathered and worn.
You know you choose not to notice what’s right before your eyes
you can tell by one look at my face that every night I cry.
So leave me alone to say what I feelit’s my decision if I want to be real.

What is it exactly you want me to do?
Do you want me to pretend; to smile just like you?
You might be fine living your life as a fake
but I’m not like that, no matter how much I ache.
You know I can’t handle the thoughts in my head
you know I can’t handle the things that you said
so leave me alone to deal with myself
Go hang you part of me up on the dusty shelf.

What is it exactly you want me to hear?
Do you want me to know whenever you’re near?
Do you want me to listen to every word that you speak
or cut out the bad and have the good to keep.
You know you say things that you don’t always mean
but do you think of the consequences;
of the things that I’ve seen?
Because of your words I’ve seen more then I should
Because of your words I’ve done so many things I didn’t think I could.

What is it exactly you want me to taste?
The hate, the bitterness or the happiness you waste?
The little good in you that I once saw
Has left me now, naked and raw
My mouth stings from the taste of your name
My gums are cut up from the taste of my pain
So sew my mouth shut so more cant get go in
I don’t care anymore, no matter how much I sin.

What is it exactly you want me to smell?
My blood from my body as it once fell?
My need to escape from your toxic fumes
Has me looking in all the different rooms
I need to get out before your scent suffocates my lungs
My ladder of hope suddenly has no more rungs
Do you ever want me to smell faith once again
If you do feel this way, when will you show me? When!

What is it exactly you want me to touch?
The sharp edge of a knife until it all becomes too much?
Maybe even the trigger on a gun;
while it’s up to my head, wouldn’t that be fun?
I can’t stand to be there with you here with me
you’re driving me beyond recognition, so now I begin to plead...

You WANT me to see that everything’s going to be ok
you WANT me to smell flowers, when springs on its way
you WANT me to taste food like I did back then
you WANT me to hear the sound of my own laughter again
you WANT me to do what’s right and not ask why
you WANT me to touch my own skin and not cry

But what you want and what you're doing to me are two different things
You think you're helping but you're taking away my wings
I can no longer fly with you holding me down
You saw me flailing in the river but I still seemed to drown....

I still drowned....