Rebirth

Move, squeeze the juice out of the joints
The dark filaments, the liquid bond
Flowing fast and brutal; lost among the points
Of absolute mechnical joy of no return!
Faster, blinding, blazing, breathtaking speed!
An absolute emotional and acid force
Punches hard until I fucking bleed;
Until the world is damged,
Even worse,
Until the soul is lost between my bleeding lips
Intent on staying shut
As I snarl up curses at all your harsh, unnecessary quips
Bent into the fat of this land.
Andrenaline! I race between heartbeats
Against the clock, against the wind.
Acrid smell of sweat as panic sweeps
And pushes hard, face flat into my sins!
Face flat,
Crushed teeth,
And bloodied nose
I've seen all this,
I've seen beyond and worse,
Desires crumbled and joints broken,
Destroyed, all filaments ripped and torn,
Still words I squeezed before your bile you have spoken:
"Get another slave and let me be reborn!"

Questions

So what is it going to be? Is it over, or the torute just began a new leap, a new circumferential step, an attack against my naked brain? I am lost. Every day that I wake up, take a shower, eat vitamins, excersize, get derssed, go to work, eat lunch, more work, come home, come again, come fucking again. I wonder - what is the point? Is it the craving for respect or attention? Is it the warmth of someones hand on your forehead, or a curl of fine hair caressing your back? Is it the wet, juicy kiss of warm, beautiful lips or a gentle, drowning look of so much beloved eyes? Or is it the frown, the hate, the anger, the neglect, the disrespect, the pain, the sorrow, the emptyness, the question - what is the point?

Or is it you besides and despite all of those things? Are you worse than heroine? Is it my addiction that makes me a depraved, hapless and ultmately lonely man that I am? Or is this just a pathetic excuse to cry, to whine, to complain, to excersize the right for paranoia?

Or...

Or...

Or...

And it is all of it and more, and it is nothing of above and less. The only truth I know is that I am lost. I clearly see my soul entagled in the web of despair. I see it suffocate in the prison of social retardation, the hopes, the needs, the lust, the purity of the excused sins.

This life seems to be just a mastrbation while watching the intercouse of free will, listening to its moans, its pleas, caress and almost touch.

So say we all.

Sharp edges of absolutes

At the edge of everything
An absolute of The End.
In the corner of an eye blink,
There I stand torn and bent.
I write these words,
With cliches all around;
And your crooked, dull swords
Beating me down.
I wonder for the infinite time
I ponder this life
When you are so fine
With your stares like knifes!
There is no one to listen
No one to hear my song.
I know not when this bliss ends,
But it has lasted for so darn long.
I got no strong shoulder,
My back is broken and skewed,
I file away my life's folder
Full of mistakes, don't look...
At the edge of nothing,
A flawed, repeated start.
I see your eyes laughing
And tearing me apart.
And har, har, har,
And tears,
The midless, sticky tar,
Simplistic, carnal fears.
The edge, the absolutes, all wind,
Again I coil and hide within...