For Crying (out loud)

Sentenced to indifference. 20-life.

post my bond friend. post my bail.

get me out of the pulse that resonates, this public hell.

too tragic to be played simple. events unfold as a silk napkin in the bistro where all the men with golden pocket watches choose to dine. and me sitting there toppling over wine glasses insisting on whiskey and refusing to use the designer silverware.
I don't belong here.

She spoke these words to me when we first met. How tragic my lines are seemingly mused by boyish afflictions. Alas when it comes to your ear in harmounious symmetry you cannot merely avert.

Create! Create!

i constantly scream the theme to myself, yet to no avail.

I simply cant put prose to paper without persecution.

As i leave the table I begin walking towards the door neglecting the leather folder that had been placed on my wallets side containing numbers that i don't care to calculate. Im not a mathematician, such fields require intelligence. I push by the man that awaits my table to be roused back to normalcy as before I came in with my messy habits. I see him watch as several gentlemen express their desire to get the job done, yet that table means nothing to them. It's merely a tip in pocket and progression to the next; always aspiring for something more. He stares knowingly and I cant help wanting to feed him the wine glass I have stowed in my pocket. better man...better man. be.. no he! he is the better man, let's leave on that note. Pocketing a few mints and glaring at the waitresses, thinking things a man wouldn't admit even to his friends, I walk out the front door and simply stark to the shadows to avoid the men I hear talking in such high voices for that type of social environment. They spill out the door. I spill a little wine on myself. But by this time i've found my favorite restaurant round the bend and out of sight.

Quite unfortunate i've been banned from it already. Two and a half years and yet they still wont let me fill my glass which I so willingly bring. So i'll slink by and stare at the man in my favorite booth filling up on bread and water while avoiding ordering any real meal. Yet I cannot claim the seat anylonger, it's got holes in the upholstry and names carved into the table. How can I sit there? God knows I would. But I just walk away.

We'll i've got some lads I know and who don't care for the fancy things or anything at all. Yeah, they'll offer me whiskey. There are no tables, just the road and awaiting immense hunger to set in.
This is a sad story.

This is where friends call you all concerned

This is where people disappear.

This is where it begins.

It's so very dangerous to be creative.

Let's shock them all. Turn out to be that better man.

This just leads to when.

I pirouette around things I cannot control. Foresake my words until they come true. Here is all i'll need tonight. A chair to sleep in, one Foxtrail, one rabbit hole and multiple ashtrays.

you will? you will. you will?

I feel alive. and im the only one here to enjoy it.

intricacy is to much for me. we have plans and we dont, we lie we lie we lie we lie.

who claims me?

the moonlight is seeping in at 10 am. and the air is brisk.
feel alive. feel anything. each blade of grass frosts over if you stare long enough, so lets live like winters here. we're there. winding around the roads as the stars see us shiver. let's roll the glass away and put fire to the wind. for me my friend.
for you.

we are overdue.
help me forget to remember, remember to forget.

One song. that's all it takes and im playing it so very very loud! can you hear it! can you hear it! Here it is!

I tighten my hood and begin to walk.
I await your footsteps.