monksta

"surprise sometime
I'll come around
surprise sometime
I'll come around
I will surprise you sometime
I'll come around
I will surprise you sometime
I'll come around
when you're down"

taken in stride,
taken in time,
i will find myself following that logic
surprise followed by coming around
when you're (or is it I) am down

smiles tend to creep out of shadows
and they don't bite like pain

i'm tired of being logical,
sedate me with day dreams, with happiness
and you'll see fluttering
flailing, rummaging
of a whole new sort

my body twisted, turned and bruised
but in adulation, from time

i am a pill box and i want to be empty
i want to read your every goosebump
like braille and taste your every word

we expand and contract,
and my ribbons are all pulled out of my hair
(i wear ribbons?), cut them loose.

torn, torn, torn.... these stitches
are no longer needed, i'm beating as loud as I can
saying fuck you to the past
and even in a body screaming at me
causing me to stumble
i'm marching, no no no no, not marching,
jogging, leaping, running, kicking myself
forward one day at a time,
you are the past, and i haven't even
a trashcan to throw you in.

"I will surprise you sometime
I'll come around"

you'll see, and i'll smile
and you ... you ... will fall apart
because it won't be fake this time

and the people i am with
will smile, and you'll see we
have it stuck, taped, pinned
to our hearts with post-it notes

that we don't have to pretend.