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Saturday, July 08, 2006

The Letter S

I woke up reminded of being the other man
It's a syndrome that makes my eyes itch like ivy
It's become sort of routine and trivial
Like brushing teeth and then the mouthwash
I don't like it but don't know how to operate without it
It's a feeling like a hole but not that cliche
And I know it's happening and I can't stop it
I can acknowledge it and pet it like a cute little cat
Make fun of it from afar and disown it in the company of others
But the feelings still exist there behind my back
And they like to smack me in the back of the head at times like this
They whisper and scream words like, "STUPID" and "foolish"
It's a Saturday and it's a She and it's a name and it's a place
I know things I wish to not acknowledge but they root like gofers beneath my soil
These carrots of knowledge are being plucked and I'm trying to not pay attention
Come tomorrow I'll pretend like I never even wrote this
Come tomorrow I won't be the other man, at least I'll be the actor pretending
I'll smile and nod and be that silly guy
But it will all eventually come back to this thing
This Saturday and this She
This name and this place
Pull the plug and let it flicker
Toss it out the window and let it smash
I need it to be purged but I need it to stay with me
Keep me company and break the walls
Take advantage of me and keep me safe
Pluck my eyes out like grapes and feed them to the monkies
Without these itching eyes, perhaps these feelings will go away too...

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