kelland

I have extreme writer's block. You know. I have concluded one thing about my "writing," if you want to call it that. It doesn't have structure. Absolutely no backbone. No flow. No natural progression. And that is why it simply doesn't work for you. It doesn't work for me. It just is what it is and it isn't suppose to be "deep" or "sentimental" or "relative." It's just my head. So don't ever feel compelled to comment just because I stick a poem in here, because most of the time it's far from compelling. I wish I could say something like Morrissey -- that man always has something brilliantly insightful to say about the world, the human condition, and any thing you might be feeling at any given time.

There comes a time in everyone's life when they have to flip on or off a switch. Run away from being nice just because it's the easy thing to do and run away from diplomacy and having the guts all the time. Run away from bearing smiles when you really want to scream and run away from authority and mainstream. Run away from the people that grind you down and the people that pretend to build you up. Run away from the vulnerability and the lack of heart and the dependence. And I'm running.

Now I have to go console my sister because I have avoided that confrontation long enough. And I miss her and my heart hurts without her and she needs to know that. People need to know that they're needed. They need to know that they're important. They need to know that they're thought about even when they aren't around. I need to know it. And we'll never know unless you fucking say so. Just bear that in mind. You don't have an entire life to tell people how you really feel. You might as well do it while you can. It will ALWAYS mean something to me. So speak.

Slip and stumble at my first offenses
It's not treason, it's no lie
You talk in paragraphs
I write my sentence
It's not treason, it's no lie

It seems a place for us to dream
It seems a place for us to dream

Crush and crumble under your defenses
It's not treason, it's no lie
You frame the photograph I sit on fences
Change your season, love can die

If we tear out the tumor
It's later, never sooner
If we tear out the tumor
It's later, never sooner

It seems a place for us to dream
It seems a place for us to dream

You'd better keep it in check
Or you'll end up a wreck
And you'll never wake up...

Yeah. Placebo. Good for what ails ya.