Elucidating Questions

It’s this question, seems to come every day, what do you want?

What do you want?

Like a fool before fools were made, the stupid one who didn’t realise there was something to want.

This stupid one who didn’t realise that there was an issue. This stupid thing that mistook being human.

The sharp pain in the face every time like a hit to the head for whatever reason. It must be justified, or it wouldn’t be felt. Or it wouldn’t be done.

What do I want?

Any thought of it and the immediate guilt and shame and regret.

I want love

No can’t have love tried to show it didn’t do it right can’t get love love others only watch it can’t ask for it.

I want someone

No can’t want someone if there is a someone then they would be forced and that isn’t the right way must never ask for it.

I want…

Can’t get the thought out stomach churns disgusting greedy stupid nasty lazy person who could ask for anything will never again, think that is something I should ask for

I cannot ask, will not, and will never, have an answer for the question, nothing to want send it elsewhere surely someone else could benefit more and as nothing always nothing and these mistakes

No not the start every damn shot the wrong fucking words every time every time never

Ever.

Ever again.

To feel it even to feel love for someone anyone ever never again no one would ever want it the feeling only if it comes with what they want they never wanted me

Thus I must be a nightmare come alive.

Thus the wishes I thought I could bring, the prayers answered,

A trick of the mind.

I just wanted to be more than a gear,

And that is all I will not stand out of line.

Humble apologies, I remain nothing.

Thus left mercifully without the words that come out and don’t speak. The words expected, not as a good thing, but an unfortunate thing as everything has tried.

Watching those far more capable, challenging the incapable, giving voices to those without.

The ability to make a difference in the world. The ability to truly help someone somewhere in someway.

Yet from here there is no option to help, what is had is only what can be the most beneficial for one.

There is no plan or dream for tomorrow, but perhaps someday the ability to make such a difference, to help someone.

Maybe a face that can actually do some good, rather than what is here.

But seeing forward just means the prospect of the future alone, and selfish nasty greedy person, the thought of tomorrow only brings the thought of the rest of this summer…

The nothing that has been every day.

The ends justify the means they scream and scream and scream.

Can’t change the part. That’s all you will ever be. So unrelenting and that’s how it is. There is a cruel joke, within every track

All it is is cold and dark. If the heart isn’t allowed to break for days lived alone and those brave ones who can live alone unlike this nothing

This pain that is the same regardless, every day there is a chance, and every day that chance is missed. So tell me more stories about true or love or right or wrong or up or down

So many words that mean nothing now. No waking up, not when there is no reason to be.

The words just say the same thing again.

We could save the world, we could save people, we could stand up and show trust existed, merely on a feeling.

Not when the feeling is gone, it existed and died. The flame blown out, it didn’t fade, and all I wanted was to give you heaven

And all you want is for me to go to hell. When that is merely unlikely, as I would tear off my skin before I would go in such a direction.

And I have. So, not a lie, the new scars on my arm, destruction of the existence I shouldn’t have bothered.

Clearly you would have been just fine without me.

The words become louder and the beating of the drums goes on and on.

The sound of the mothers crying and children losing futures they should have been able to keep for freedom.

The warnings that follow as the word slips in and screaming no does nothing to change it.

Things don’t go as planned when humans are involved, those who speak with their pockets and not how things can be solved.

Sad little puppet men hanging on a string, pulled by those who have control for no reason.

No guiding of gods or stars above, merely luck or nepotism or the cunning those who use and never give back.

The scales are beginning to tip, as the ones who wish success realise if they break the toy they will be the ones who lose,

Unfortunately, they must pretend it is all love, when the places above are about to join in.

This battle of existence by existences that aren’t quite humans.

Not fighting for you, me, the future, or love,

Just they want to be on top, and we are staring at the board.

The dropping of the mountain as the thought of being at the top merely an avalanche of description and forces.

And isn’t the end always the same with a sword in the belly or someone having heard what they didn’t want to hear.

This just seems to be yet another day.

So why is the ice, the cold, the winter, screaming as loudly.

So just more, winter happens and that’s that.

What an important thing to know.

There is no fear or ambition or want. The giver of dreams put it all out.

And yet there is that Gods damn rose. The Gods damn sheep. This Gods damn call for letting it go or finding home or accepting love.

When there is nothing, there isn’t one, and I’m not the one and never would be again.

Words they don’t read or understand. Hiding in nothing and no more messages there’s nothing else to say to the four.

Are you crying for or against fate and make up your mind to run in the other directions, but you’d never grace me with words.

After all, the unpretty, unimportant, unintegral, uninteresting, nothings

Don’t deserve the words.

To go back there was one, who knows who, maybe I tried to think it was him, but it wasn’t and we should have known not that he ever saw or would have cared

Of course there’s no plan this time, but every day the one hope is that something could go wrong.

After all one life or whatever, fates or whatever, but when faced with it they don’t want it.

It isn’t irony, it’s praying to God and when he shows up at the door saying

I have answers, ask me a question

And fingers pointed the world is his fault. And why can’t anyone just be and the description of what a perfect person would be

Putting up a hand and whispering

All I wanted was someone who could love me, so I could love them back.

The difference between romantic and platonic, picked the wrong words

I didn’t care, as long as lessons were learnt and contrition felt.

As long as we could feel connected to one another, as long as we could move forward and try to help.

As long as I could be understood, but that was an expectation beyond all others.

As long as I could love you.

But no, and the spirit still calls, and things are still felt and heard and screaming stay away

Doesn’t keep anything away.

So lucky to be able to unplug it and go. That we know nothing, I don’t believe you have felt this, and that no matter how much I love you

I’d never be enough anyhow.