sleep (theme from me mine myself i)
if there were lyrics, they would go like this:
rest your eyes to see what you have woken up
Cross-eyed and slashed through the middle>
In between the lines lies a necessary pointer>
The tip of an arrow, the end of a sentence>
A game of darts is a game of taking chances>
And with chance comes likelihood of losing>
The direction is the answer to the question,>
The question being what has been done?>
but guilty conscience twists the binding of the bow and turns it the other way.
(both by the compass and by morality)
(1)Spell: to provide all letters in a word
(2)Misspell: to err
(3)Dry spell: a drought, not necessarily of water
(4)Spellbinding: captivating
(5)Spell check: robotic editing program
(6)Spelling bee: useless means of superiority, competition
(7)Spell (alt): an inescapable enchantment
1Fill in the blanks. 2You will miss some. 3You may not get any for a while. 4You become fixated, fascinated, even obsessed. 5It can’t be done by your own means. 6Why do it? 7Human nature
this is what you make of it.
there will be no reasons, reactions, ramblings, rhymes, schemes, dreams, nightmares, daylight, sunshine, moonshine, space, volume, series, novels, chapters, clubs, chickens, animals, chains, restraints, prisoners, keys, maps, directions, compasses, pointers, hints, evidence, mysteries, murderers, weapons, dangers, strangers, unknown, knowledge, studies, experiments, results, conclusions, endings, beginnings, starting lines, races, colors, shapes, sizes, giants, games, balls, guts, glory, battles, guns, muscles, strength, willpower, hope, saviors, heroes, villains, schemes, plots, graphs, charts, data, statistics, numbers, calculations, plans, schedules, calenders, dates, times, news, truth, lies, deception, digression, dilution, solutions, problems, practices, rehearsals, performances, artists, portraits, frames, pictures, images, thoughts, philosophy, reasons.
they’re just words for now.
To look down was so satisfying, which is why I needed to look up a little more.
So I shattered the mirror above my head with a high-pitched yell…
…and there I saw the sky.
I refused to look up because each time I did,
I had to face something I didn’t want to.
This is why I was looking down, past my shoes, past the ground.
And the sky was possible, vast, infinite
Perhaps I could be those things as well.
And then the sky was a mirror. Or at least, it could be.
To think, I once considered shattering that
