Sadism

The bird wasn't always caged, but the bars were being made long before the bird ever got it's first taste of captivity. For it takes a special type of steel to crush a spirit. It takes a special type of cage to have bars but deny any hope. The best cage is one that is meant to both hold something captive and hold something private. To so stunt the growth of an animal that is destined to be large that even its mind believes the morose nature of its indictment to be just and self determined. It was predetermined. The only variable is the bird. My cage has been set for years and the only thing delaying its use is the lack of a stunning enough bird to devastate. That has changed. The trap has sprung and in it lies the very essence and, ironically, humanity of a beautiful songbird. The future of the bird is unimportant, all that matters is that my bars wrought of pure contempt and jealousy will have forever scarred and left their mark on its throat. I am the cage. I am why you sing

A Bitter Boy, A Better Girl

There are times when I wonder how old you think you are. So professional and mature and introspective, ready to salvage what you can of situations gone awry. Everything is there except the right motive. The only reason you do it is to augment what you see inside.

Cry on your pillow and then wear your big girl heels. Write "soul searching" poetry and then mince words with your parents about curfew. You're almost an adult. What the fuck does that mean.

It means you want people to take you seriously whenever you open your mouth, and what's more, agree. It's time for other people to acknowledge and accept your flaws because you are an adult. You're fully formed and what better way to show it than screaming out to the rest of the world "I'm better than you!".

There's a difference between policy and practice and much of it is the same between opinion and fact. There's some more maturing left. You bash enough adults to know that. Maybe this will be a cycle of being built up by your own perception of intelligence, importance, composure, and charisma. I almost hope it is, because it will be a brutal day when it hits. Your eyes don't sparkle like you think they do. You're not as tall as you think and not everybody wants to be around as much as you want to be around everyone.
It's okay though really. You aren't that bad and getting better. But please. The next time you lok in the mirror, do it without makeup.

No this isn't about you.

Holding Hands

I want to feel death when it comes.

I can feel it now, already on my body, waiting to come out.
And I know, the last exhale will be the most blissful experience there is to have.
A shallow breath.
Within it, my consciousness, my heart, my soul. I want to leave the way I came in. My mind blank. My head totally detoxed of all triviality.

If I catch death, on its way out, it will be holding hands with life, and the last thing I do will be to smile. For I know the only thing more forgiving than a fresh start is a welcomed end.

Cold

I could crush you so easily.
It would be so simple, like stepping on a bug.
But you are hardly a bug.
Maybe that's what makes it an accomplishment.
If I can fit a human being underneath my shoe, the possibilties are endless.
I am larger than life.

But you are my life.



Maybe that's why I want to do it so badly.

Autonomous

They sometimes say "go where you're wanted"
But it's getting harder to avoid myself
I can succeed with lies and cheats
But never look at the trophy on my shelf

There's a chance I pull myself together here
And if I did, nobody would see it as a shock
I've always been good at figuring out puzzles
But with this one there's no picture on the box

The man in the mirror calls it a passing phase
The man in my head clamors for a new start
I guess the problem is that the phone lines are down
Because I can't get in touch with the man in my heart

To be honest I'm afraid of what he would say
Should he break free of his constraints
I can hear him now and then beating at the door
Begging me to just let him explain

-

I have a good life with the wrong chemicals
Polluting my mind with their reactions
Sometimes I can shake them into a different cocktail
But never long enough for my life to gain traction

Because the main ingredient happens to be my biggest crux
and it immobilizes the matter between my ears
If you were to look at my life, I wouldn't have to tell you
That the main ingredient is fear

Fear can be good though, it gets a bad rep
When I'm arrogant, fear is my gravity
But it keeps pulling, even when I'm already down to earth
And in my own prison, fear is what binds me

So I don't let people get close enough to recognize it
Though they think they know Aidan pretty well
That's just the name I wear on my nametag, smiling,
There's a second that's reserved for me in hell

That name is synonymous with my biggest fear
and therefore ME in every sense of the word
There's a chirping on my shoulder that tells me who I am
And I know that Snowden will always be that bird.


write about a man who grows his hair out just to hang himself with it