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Array ( [sid] => 153958 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => life as an island [time] => 2009-10-10 15:23:55 [hometext] => i guess this piece is about a man who cannot put the past to bed. Involves feelings of guilt, isolation, and self loathing while slipping in and out of consciousness. [bodytext] => sleep falls away after a familiar dream
i was only a child and so was she
the windows open, it smells like rain
i gather my head and remember her face

daisy

this apartment is old and has a disease
the wallpaper is pealing, the faucets all leak
my cigarettes burn faster than gasoline
like the days i lose that turn into weeks

October

buildings are islands and this one i own
its true, not all houses can feel like home
no pictures hang on walls of people i love
my bridges are broken, burned, come undone

guilty

remember mothers face in the garden as she sings
I'm wearing a cape and pajamas swinging on trees
I'm always max from where the wild things are
mother says "you don't know how lucky you really are"

"the giving tree"

here cold air crawls under doors and lives for free
i shut the window and daisy is their to remind me
the ghosts that haunt these halls i cannot flee
i lay my head to rest and continue to sleep

haunted
[comments] => 0 [counter] => 133 [topic] => 43 [informant] => myconscious [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )
life as an island

Contributed by myconscious on Saturday, 10th October 2009 @ 03:23:55 PM in AEST
Topic: oops



sleep falls away after a familiar dream
i was only a child and so was she
the windows open, it smells like rain
i gather my head and remember her face

daisy

this apartment is old and has a disease
the wallpaper is pealing, the faucets all leak
my cigarettes burn faster than gasoline
like the days i lose that turn into weeks

October

buildings are islands and this one i own
its true, not all houses can feel like home
no pictures hang on walls of people i love
my bridges are broken, burned, come undone

guilty

remember mothers face in the garden as she sings
I'm wearing a cape and pajamas swinging on trees
I'm always max from where the wild things are
mother says "you don't know how lucky you really are"

"the giving tree"

here cold air crawls under doors and lives for free
i shut the window and daisy is their to remind me
the ghosts that haunt these halls i cannot flee
i lay my head to rest and continue to sleep

haunted




Copyright © myconscious ... [ 2009-10-10 15:23:55]
(Date/Time posted on site)





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