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Kabuki's got nothing on this art form, baby.
daveespionage
.::: ..:..::.: ..:. ..:.:.
December 2010
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Kabuki's got nothing on this art form, baby. [userpic]
Curves

Tantalizing, isn't it?
The idea of the not?
The have and the would have had had it not been for the having
Already?

How have you been?
How has it become this way?
How did you get here?

Let me find my history.

I'll look it up in this book
Called my livre,
Shu, something.
Its a... word, I'm sure.

The history has itself,
And it makes itself known as such.

No point in being perplexing, we have all the facts,
We've found that without them that would be that. 
We'd all be over, and under, and done. 
Medium rare, poorly cooked.

A sad sight for the cost we charge
To live, our lives have the meter running
And our rates are not as high as we think.
Ask the driver to take you there for fifty. 

You'll get there for twenty.  Tip the rest. 
Still, no need to explain the fear.
The realness of real,
The hatred of here.

I'll take my now and play elsewhere
So that I can stop for a second and say
I lived for today for today was the day
That I learned to stop.


Still, I have to remember.  

It won't forget me. 


So where will I be if I fear myself
Because I thought I was lonely
When I lied to myself. 
No truth is as hollow
As the one you won't face.

I make the tree bigger
By turning away.  
Until a forest has grown
Behind my eyes. 

Miles and miles and miles
Of lies. 

The truth is in front of me. 
History repeats, the slide show from second grade
Is still on my class seat. 

With the ten dollars my parents had put aside
For something important. 

And I'm looking in the mirror to see if anyone notices. 

All this piles together
To form the big "thing."

The answer to my question
Where have I been?
Instead my brain should be asking
Where am I now?

For that's more important 
As it answers
Who am I now?

No more questions, no more qu... okay.
Just one. 

Who will I be? 

That's still to come.

Current Mood: anxiousanxious