But, here's some of my favorites:
You're the only one who can hold your head up high.
Shake your fist at the gates saying:
I have come home now.
Fetch me the spirit.
The son, and the father.
Tell them their pillar of faith has ascended.
It's time now, my time now.
Give me my, give me my, wings.
A groan of tedium escapes me, startling the fearful.
Is this a test?
It has to be. Otherwise I can't go on.
If there were no desire to heal
The damaged and broken met along this tedious path I've chosen here,
I certainly would've walked away by now.
The poetry that comes from the squaring off between,
And the circling is worth it.
Finding beauty in the dissonance.
the light that fueled our fire then has burned a hole between us so
we cannot see to reach an end crippling our communication.
This body. This body holding me. Be my reminder here that I am not alone in
This body, this body holding me, feeling eternal all this pain is an illusion...
Of what it means to be alive
over thinking, over analyzing separates the body from the mind.
Withering my intuition leaving opportunities behind.
Feed my will to feel this moment urging me to cross the line.
I find that I can see a light at the end down
beneath my self-indulgent pitiful hole.
Defeated I Concede and move closer. I may find comfort here
I may find peace within the emptiness. How pitiful.
Something kinda sad about the way that things have come to be. Desensitized to everything. What became of subtlety? How can it mean anything to me if I really don't feel anything at all?
What was it like to see the face of your own stability suddenly look away leaving you with the dead and hopeless?
Fuck L Ron Hubbard and Fuck all his clones. Fuck all those gun-toting Hip gangster wannabes. Fuck retro anything. Fuck your tattoos. Fuck all you junkies and Fuck your short memory. Fuck smiley glad-hands With hidden agendas. Fuck these dysfunctional, Insecure actresses.
And then, ofcourse, the one that has graced my sig so many times;
Come down. Get off your fuckin cross. We need the fuckin space to nail the next fool martyr.