The Last Time I Saw You Alive
The last time I saw you alive, I wish I would've talked ugly to you; said put the straw down no I don't want to; take another line... I should be writing them. My friend you are a composer of music and magic instruct your limbs to serve a purpose greater than self indulgence. Do not be fooled into thinking you're pain has sharper teeth then anyone else's. I had a chance but said nothing because I was high; this is how I got started a bottle of Jack and a mirror memories and scissors... dreams drenched in ether slice by razors, potential roads like 20 dollar bills numbing the feeling on the tip of my tongue... that I and this tongue should be serving a greater purpose....
At a last ditch attempt at self-assessment I decided to look at my life in the eyes of love ones where they see everything especially the ugly... from years of drug use from lying with to lying to Angel's; friends I had forsake, taking so much more than I had given I had streamline self-centeredness into a science but there was righteousness there, a willingness to craft these ills to alchemy and poetry into a seer stone but honestly HOW could I speak ugly to you when I was yet to speak it to myself and in these nightmares in hindsight there is no poetry no alliteration to soften the blow; some realities have no simile. Truth is like truth... how can I form my lips to call your suicide a tragedy when I left you alone in that room, kept company by narcotics and 1000 ghosts draped in your disappointments. I can only imagine all the voices you heard all but mine, smear make up on it to disgust if you must; truth the truth is seldom pretty but she is always beautiful it is in times like these that I need you to please talk ugly to me my pain needs it too many times we caress sadness when it needs to be shaken torn from its place of comfort, forced to grow wings to survive or die; don't just tell me I can go up and be whatever I want to... tell me that whatever I want better be something I am willing to achieve that dreams will dissipate under the weight of addiction and that there is a distinct difference between living like a rockstar and actually being one.
Sometimes all you are when you wake up one day is a coke head and a poser. Fear not we are all divinely flawed individual's perfectly ugly; there's no point in hiding behind pretty lies we are the sum of the hideous scars that hold together the remainder of all pretty pieces. The last time I saw you alive, the last time I saw you alive... the last time I saw you alive I wish I would of talked ugly to you it would've been the most beautiful thing I never said. - POEM BY Joseph Green
At a last ditch attempt at self-assessment I decided to look at my life in the eyes of love ones where they see everything especially the ugly... from years of drug use from lying with to lying to Angel's; friends I had forsake, taking so much more than I had given I had streamline self-centeredness into a science but there was righteousness there, a willingness to craft these ills to alchemy and poetry into a seer stone but honestly HOW could I speak ugly to you when I was yet to speak it to myself and in these nightmares in hindsight there is no poetry no alliteration to soften the blow; some realities have no simile. Truth is like truth... how can I form my lips to call your suicide a tragedy when I left you alone in that room, kept company by narcotics and 1000 ghosts draped in your disappointments. I can only imagine all the voices you heard all but mine, smear make up on it to disgust if you must; truth the truth is seldom pretty but she is always beautiful it is in times like these that I need you to please talk ugly to me my pain needs it too many times we caress sadness when it needs to be shaken torn from its place of comfort, forced to grow wings to survive or die; don't just tell me I can go up and be whatever I want to... tell me that whatever I want better be something I am willing to achieve that dreams will dissipate under the weight of addiction and that there is a distinct difference between living like a rockstar and actually being one.
Sometimes all you are when you wake up one day is a coke head and a poser. Fear not we are all divinely flawed individual's perfectly ugly; there's no point in hiding behind pretty lies we are the sum of the hideous scars that hold together the remainder of all pretty pieces. The last time I saw you alive, the last time I saw you alive... the last time I saw you alive I wish I would of talked ugly to you it would've been the most beautiful thing I never said. - POEM BY Joseph Green
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