M2 (M Squared)

                 

               M²

This is our surrender,
Something we must make clear.
This is our surrender,
Something you must stop to hear.
This is our surrender,
We were warned & should have known.
This is our surrender,
Standing all alone.

And we -
Wish we didn't feel,
Like this wasn’t your final miss.
And we -
Wish we could unsay,
The things we said that makes you realize this
And we -
Just wish that we didn't feel

As You . . .
Give Yourself Away -
Just To Have Something Hollow To Fill You.
Give Yourself Away -
To Avoid Someone Real To Hold To.

So we surrender,
This is where we stop as asked.
This is us pretending. . .
We aren’t all you need.

And we -
Wish we didn’t feel,
Like this won’t be your last miss.
And we -
Regret everything we said,
That will crush you when you realize this.
And we -
Just wish that we didn't feel.

As You . . .
Give Yourself Away -
Just To Fill Your Empty Hollow.
Give Yourself Away -
And Tell Us Not To Follow.

This is our surrender,
This is something we don’t want to hear.
This is our surrender
Something you made all to clear.

As You . . .
Give Yourself Away -
Just To Avoid What You Know To Be Real.
Give Yourself Away -
And Hide From Yourself The Truth That You Feel.

Give It All Away. . .

2016.01.31 @ 0010

& Try To Break Free

      - & Try To Break Free - 
 

Don't remember where our head was,
   when Chance told us, to her it was a game.
The more serious she looked to be,
   the farther away she became.
We had no idea, what this would cost,
   as we watched all the reruns flash before our eyes.
When we found out how little she thought,
   so little our worth, all our hopes denied.

As you read this now our friend -
We wish you’d done more than bail -
Try to smile if you ever think of “us” -
And how your fears created this fail. 

We Blame The Moon.
And Shooting Stars.
Nicholas Sparks.
And The Past’s Scars.
These Are The Last Words.
We'll Give To This Mess.
And Then We’ll Try To Break Free.

If our heart wasn’t so very weak,
   it might have handled this break.
But all the memories we have of you,
   resurrected its unending ache.
We should have known better,
   and we knew we were foolish to try.
Her not so gentle reminder of our place,
   Our whole life will testify.

Moving on is not such a simple thing -
It always leaves behind new scars -
Time heals, but doesn’t really ease the pain -
not in a heart such as ours.

We Blame The Moon.
And Shooting Stars.
Nicholas Sparks.
And The Past’s Scars.
These Are The Last Words
We'll Give To This Mess.
And Then We’ll Try To Break Free.


2016.01.25 @ 0330

Disney & Sparks

Disney & Sparks.

There once was a warrior, a knight if you will. His mother called him Galahad due to his propensity for rescuing damsels. His friends called him a crazy dumb ass, because he was. He called himself much worse. For simplicity sake, this narrative will call him Skarsoul.

Skarsoul was a veteran of many a campaign, both of love and war. His coat of arms was a phoenix with six tail feathers, and for the most part he kept his pain well-hidden and bore his scars with dignity. His armor was strong, and well maintained, but on occasion a chink would appear in his chest piece. This is the story of the last time it happened and why it will never happen again.

Skarsoul frequented a tavern in his area that catered to old warriors, and there he met a fair maid. The barkeep of this establishment was himself a veteran of many a campaign of the heart. He warned Skarsoul early on of the foolish nature of the quest he was undertaking. Skarsoul ignored the sage advice of the barkeep, and the advice his own head provided, and opened that small chink in his armor.

So good reader, you are now up to speed.

The fair maid accepted an invitation from Skarsoul for an evening’s meal and entertainment, but without explanation on the evening in question, disappeared. Skarsoul, being the battle hardened warrior he is, enjoyed the meal and entertainment alone. A few weeks pass, and Skarsoul once again extends an invitation to the fair maid, which she accepted. Being skilled at mission planning, the evening was planned three weeks in advance, and the fair maid affirmed on her honor that it would be an event of epic proportions.

There were several occasions in the ensuing weeks, when the fair maid would apologies for actions and situations. Each time Skarsoul forgave her, and blamed himself, because he knew better and yet had opened his armor willingly.

The evening before the special event, the wise barkeep just shook his head and said “you realize I will laugh heartily at your expense tomorrow evening when the fair maid does not arrive”. Skarsoul laughed and said, “yes sir you may, but I doubt it”. Skarsoul had by this time forgotten his destiny, and believed he would not have to sing the song of life as a solo act much longer.

On the appointed day, and after the appointed hour, the barkeep remarked “she’s not late yet, take heart”. When the fair maid was in fact half an hour late Skarsoul sent her a message, and receiving no reply, once again began the evening without her. The chink in his armor remained open at this time.

The feast though bountiful, had no flavor for him, and the drinks brought no refreshment. His polished armor remained beautiful and strong, despite the crack in the center of his chest.

The tavern where the evening’s entertainment was to take place was crowded and chaotic. Skarsoul, even in the best of mental states, did not do well in situations like this. Yet he attempted to persevere. The minstrel’s were late, and the barkeep at this tavern did not meet the standard set by Skarsoul’s normal barkeep.

The music was loud, yet the only songs Skarsoul could hear were in his head. He first heard the minstrel Sting sing “walking on the moon”, then Meatloaf sang “two out of three ain’t bad”.The internal music continued as Frou Frou sang “let go", and Alison Moyet cried out “invisible”. Finally the 12th song on “operation mindcrime” started, and stayed on repeat between his ears.

Though his armor was still cracked open, Skarsoul’s mood shifted, and his mind twirled and turned inward on itself. He decided that perhaps he could not push on and enjoy the evening after all. He feared in his current mental state, that he was rapidly becoming a danger to himself and patrons of this unruly tavern, so he exited that place and situation.

As Skarsoul’s carriage merged onto the busy thoroughfare the package on his passenger seat shifted and rustled, the crack in his armor started to close. When Skarsoul noticed the crack was closing, he changed his direction of travel. Instead of retreating to his castle in the distance, he went to his local tavern.

Skarsoul stepped up to the bar, and a half smile formed on the face of the barkeep as he saw that Skarsoul was in fact, alone. Skarsoul handled the rustling package to the barkeep and said “give these flowers to your lady”. The half-smile retreated from the barkeeps face, and the promised laughter died before it could begin.

The barkeep provided Skarsoul with a beverage, which he savored slowly, as he methodically worked his way through a smoke. When the crack in his armor finally closed with a clang, Skarsoul shook himself, and wiped is eyes. He then said to himself “no more”, Disney and Sparks are liars, there are no happy ever afters”.

The Pain We've Grown Used To

        - The Pain We've Grown Used To -


We have no idea what we’re looking for,
   we just know it’s getting harder to ignore.
We no longer know who we are instead of us,
   but we know it’s our heart we can’t trust.
We can’t say why we are still trying,
   we just play and break all our own rules.
All the signs prove angels leave us crying,
   and devils thrive on making us the fool.

All This Spinning Around, Is Slowly Grinding Us Down.
But It Provides Us With, The Pain We’ve Grown Used To.
We Find It Hard To Believe, Love Is More Than To Deceit.
Now All We Hope To Achieve, Is Something That Feels True.

With a hole in our chest where our heart should be,
   and a pulse that won’t rest like the open sea.
With eyes closed we pay the price for seeking paradise,
   and the devils feed on our naked soul.
We wish to heal but we feel that it’s all too clear,
   make mistakes with the fakes our only fear.
Hanging there in the air we never had a prayer,
   of all our faults we are so painfully aware.

All This Spinning Around, Is Slowly Grinding Us Down.
But It Provides Us With, The Pain We’ve Grown Used To.
We Find It Hard To Believe, Love Is More Than To Deceit.
Now All We Hope To Achieve, Is Something That Feels True.


2016.01.20 @ 0430

Don't Be So Blind

         Don’t Be So Blind
   (an open letter to our self)

Well,
Our friend.
We feel it's time.
That you assessed the situation,
   and decide to protect your mind.
Every time, you are so blind,
And give no consideration,
   for the damage inside.

Don’t you look at us,
   and say but I don't understand.
How could you, how could “we”,
   have gotten so far out of hand.

(don’t be . . .)
Don't Be So Blind.

You.
Our friend.
Would bleed “us” dry.
Without any hesitation,
   you’ll do all the things that make you cry.
Every time, you are so blind,
And give no consideration,
   for the damage inside.

All we say to you,
   why can’t you understand.
It didn’t work, there was no point,
    you were building on sand.

(don’t be . . .)
Don't Be So Blind

Well,
Our friend.
We feel it's time . . .
You gave up on more than a friendship.



2016.01.08 @ 0430