the upper brain speaks

this is just kind of a stream-of-consciousness thing.. i dunno..



You’d never know it, but I’m living the life.

You watch me succeed, when you think you see strife.

It seems as though I’m an empty vase,

But I’ve got some evidence to back up my case.

A scarred woman, a moonlit walk, a rose dropped in the sand;

They’re pieces of a different time, a different rhyme, and a bloody, broken hand.

You cannot, will not see me, for I do all but hide.

And lies and lies and alibis have curdled me inside.

I love my mother nature, although she’s quite the bitch.

It’s ecstasy for me, how her womb’s a burial ditch.

When kisses blow straight by my face, or touch my cheek in passing,

I want to sigh, to cry, to die, and make her stop harassing

This poor old soul. What is her goal? Does she think that I’m a fool?

A used up match, a burnt cookie batch, a useless, beat-up tool?

That, my friend, is where she’s wrong, and will never see the truth.

I’m an emerald, I’m a ruby, the epitome of youth.

“My stars, my stars. Good Lord in heaven high!” is what I hear them say.

But I will never be surprised by night, nor by day.

She is the composer of my heart, but my song still fails to beat.

She drives my car, but I’ve never even seen the passenger seat.

I sit inside a wooden box, and listen to my fingers.

While the cereal I just ate, goes to my brain and lingers.

Otherwise my mind is empty, lacking purpose and flow.

Cheerios and granola bits that chill me cold like snow.

So maybe you’re right, and you see with a sight, that I have yet to see.

You see what you get, and you get what you see, even if that sight is me.