Just an explanation... Kinda...

Trip and run and run away again
Finally found a reason to begin whatever I don't need to know what it is anyway.

Before I forgot myself I ran into a bit of a mess a bit of a mess I know it's so easy to just fall out of line fall out of the intertwined majority of the whole of my life, the hole in my hope the whole of my strife.
But that's less to say than more than I mean I'm sorry i mean I'm lost and I can't get it out from underneath me the meaning the song the singing the long the trying the broken I'm far away and you're here today to stay to say this damn rhyme it doesn't even matter so I'll go unheard unnoticed by the latter the majority I mean.

Did you hear me?

The notes are lost the music gone the lyrics are here but my mind is jarred and I can't believe there's still light in my room beside me the whirring is endless but I feel able to go on I feel strong enough to persist to pursue the thing I want the thing I need the end is near but who's to say I'm going to lose all this feeling, finally cold I turn over the coat and put it on and I feel the lining and it's so soft.


Begin once again begin once today, once more tomorrow, hear the addiction setting in now?
The lining is a mirror to something else, shadowing all that I know I can hear the words spilling into the room that I know.
But it matters not now I have found what I've lusted for all along
the knowledge inside burning inside me like some feeling destroying everything,
what matters to you matters not to me.
YOu won't hear me this time, the words are believing myself and unbelieving and misleading.

Before I forgot I remembered that what it was was important too bad I'm destroying the other motive the motif the dark story of my recent life my recent discoveries I'm sorry for disappointing I'm no hero I'm not evil I'm not even using many periods I go on and I rant I care not for your basis of structure or apostrophe or any of that bullshit blasphemy, hell half the time I don't even rhyme what's a poet without rhyme? hell, what's poetry without feeling without realizing that anything's anything and what I say does matter anyway? You know it's true so true so blue so long ago I knew that I would die some how some way some terrible day, well when you die you lose a lot of things that would have made sense later on and that sense comes and goes and I explode with thoughts I'm remembering everything so close to falling but the thing I need and want is so far away so far away so far away so I'm still here today I am still here,
you hear me screaming still and I know you do I KNOW YOU DO and you know you do and we know it's true so I'm explaining to you that I just need to be true.