The mediocrity that is me
2003-02-16 10:51:56 (UTC)


Here's to

all the regrets that I have left
and to all the garbled words I've said.

Here's to

the times you never called
and all the future memories that dissolved.

Here's to


Here's to

sunny days ahead
dark cumulonimbus clouds with
self-prophetic anvil-heads.

Here's to love.
Here's to lust.
Here's to lonelienes, friendship, trust.
And to hate and desire, fear and regret.
Here's to hopelessness and anger and death
And here's to the life I still have left.


Eradicate cyclical screams
to calloused clouds obliterating the gleam
of the moon and the sun and the stars.

Here's to the wind on the beach, in the mountains, through the trees
whispering solitary myths to the unseen deaf ear
Here's to not wanting to listen.
Here's to not wanting to hear.

Here's to the eyes that miscommunicate
Sadness to happines, love to mispoken hate.
To telepathic endings without a start
To my blistering soles,
Peeling from the miles I walked with your heart

Here's to my soul.
Here's to my heart
and to my blackened lungs
that match that black part
chained to my hands for millions of tears
disappearing only to reappear.

Here's to the people I'll never meet
Now their dreams
Now the streets.

Here's to the magician
and here's to god
And to the "slight of hand" tricks that created us all.
Now you're here, then they've gone.

Here's to my life
and here's to my scars
And the razor blade dreams fading from my lying arms.

Now the sword, then the gun.
Now the drink.
Now be numb.

Here's to destruction in a blinding flash,
swallow the flames only to arise from the ash.