programmed

The futures too big

So I step back

To get the total look

Too many things I could be

Wish I could

Put my head into

A software, sort, delete

And programmed

To succeed.

push

Five minute fights.

let it break
bleak
sink in
weak

wreaking
me slowly
consuming
wholly

i give in
get out
or is it
another round about
little trait
i dont understand
makes it hard
to hold your hand

bending
with patience
blending
infatuations
of things
not yet
understood
touch wood

so far
so good
so shut the door
shut my heart
get out
live without
us or we
cant see
eye to eye
but are angry

the battle grounds'
alive awake
ready to take
everything we've got

you're slipping
i'm tripping
the sky's black
under attack

i didn't see it
you didn't feel it
is it over?
dust settles over nothing.

"little fight"
we overhear
"alright?"
we're near

the smiles escape
and love...
the battle ground
has gone underground
like a distant memory.
forgotten story.


push aug 2010

searching

The roads just happened

I was only walking

With my eyes searching the sky

For something

I’d only

Dreamt of

The moment when

I fell over and bled

Over the rocks

I wasn’t sure

If it was only

Something I’d dreamt of

Maybe the hands of time

Lifted me up

Made me walk again

I dare not look at the sky

I’m not wondering why

When the butterflies

Came and whispered

I couldn’t hear

Maybe it wasn’t something

I was meant to be a part of

God believe me

I don’t know where this is going

The roads don’t happen now

My eyes searching the ground

I don’t remember

Anything

I’d dreamt of

Push feb’010

rambling

maybe I'll forget, maybe i'll regret, maybe i'll do just fine, maybe i don't have the time to think about where you left off, because maybe that's all there was.
maybe you'll show up on a cloudy day in a sunny way, and make me think maybe, maybe this is the day, that things weren't meant to be this way or maybe i'll be safe and warm and you're the storm and i don't need you, i never did, and i just took pity that you were a penniless passenger with no ticket.

push

Is it just me, or do we get quieter as we get older?


push

i think everything is inspired by life, every bit of the world is living in some way..This maybe completely irrelevant, but i was wondering about traffic signals today. and i realized they had more power than a human being. Millions of people stop and move according to its wishes. it had its pride, and end of the day its humility- when it turned yellow, with pigeons resting on its head, it seemed to just be doing its job, And, like a saint, it was the source of income for many beggars in the area. Like a human being who likes to help.


guess my writing is too.
Stumbled down the staircase. Maybe. Many times.
This is all the bitterness i have, though.It just comes out on paper, and fades away, as time passes, it disappears.
- Push



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