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| Reflex |
11/7/2003
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Back again, back again.
The mirror looks me in my face.
I feel the beat, I feel the heat.
The mirror puts me in my place.
These songs make my head spin.
I turn and turn and turn again.
Following the path that leads me nowhere, believing the people that I've always loved.
The future and the present collide into one.
How I've loved the past and the present now, together.
Scares me, just like my dreams coming true.
I cry myself to sleep, forgetting all of reality.
Seemingly real, seems like never forever.
Yours truly, my significant other.
Never there, it's only me in this world.
But who else do I know?
Who else do I love?
Hardly anyone but me.
Alone in this world.
Back again, back again.
Stab me in the back again.
Slash my knife into my skin.
Pull your trigger again.
It's this life thing that gets me.
It's this life thing that pulls me in.
Forget all, forget me, forget them.
My writing keeps me alive for eternity.
Other people may not understand it, but that's okay.
My dreams are often my reality, my reality is often my dreams.
Everything collides into one.
A misunderstood genius, created into a world of one, of me.
Sweet society slumber in my recess.
Pools of holy water cascade into my soul.
Such a thought of life deepens my soul.
Lose my power, forget me, I will survive in this never-ending tale of old.
The wiser the wise, the weak may survive the world of my game.
Chess, checkers, backgammon, reversi.
Life is but a game of the mind's eye.
Tricks to believe and tricks to be played.
Lives to live and kicks to delay.
What I know from what I have experienced is written down.
On ink, by typing, by thought.
Understand me or don't, I don't care.
But do not hold it against me.
It's my writing, it's me, it's my life.
You'll see.
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