Monday, December 24, 2007

We are called Stalefish and we sound like this...


and with that we would launch into our 2 minute diatribes about our friends and morals but most of all it was an invitation to group therapy
the short time we played together I grew into my own shell.
this bubble that I could write in and not be judged
I also suffered and that was the best thing to happen at this time
as it always is for tragic heroes...
but I had the chance to write about what each of us had been through
or was going through
through observation
me the obsessive one
how ever long I reach...thats where I keep you
I never wanted Cindy too far away from me
and she was too close actually
in the next room sexually submitting to drunken men
as I listened
and Shorty battling to bury his recent frustrations
now I am all you hate and you're just old to me
ring on my finger...I'm chained patiently...
but the deeper I went inward to find my own independence my walls caved
steady I retain...to pierce my insides
I pulled back the curtain as much as I could
but not too much
we were boys
we were together
and I am proud to say every word I wrote or screamed or massacred
I did for my boys
(even pocket pussy)
and look where it got us
bloody but unbowed
rehearsal for the final bout
one step..I walked away

the best years of my life......honestly

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