wantsmusic-nosound

i hear you've deemed yourself dead, and
turned your head to all ambitions. i know this may
sound hypocritical, but i'm begging you to
spin, spiral; back.
tuesdays, mondays, thursdays, what?

in all honesty, i feel terrible.
if only you would see through that blockade you've
spent all your time building.
fuck you.

scenery and background blend together as the camera lens
zoom up close. i can hear your angry screeches, and feel the scratches
all your blind days left behind. i want nothing, i want everything.
it makes me feel terrible to know now that in order to see
you i have to climb the tallest tree, to the tallest mountain, to the most durable cloud.

everyone is stretching and yearning for more. one more grasp of this concept,
a few more grains of knowledge- but i? i am reaching up, clawing and grasping and
groping and maybe even completely turning my head the other way- for an idea.
a mirage, a stone cold statuette, a darkening silhouette.

i'm huddling at the corner of my mind, and i really don't know how i'll survive
if you just happen to never arrive.