westid

i couldn’t see properly, it were a bit much for me. if i didn’t get out of here, i thought, then that’s the end of me. they will tell you anything. you do not need to bring me up, it will be – graciously, i’m sure – brought up for you and served on a silver plateau

listening to the whispering taste like smoke on the wind, the latter of the year. sometimes i wonder how i even got here. not that it matters, or that it matters to anyone else. you can take me out of context, don’t be so upset when it happens to you. bringing me down all subtle and sly, saying any owd shit. because you can, that’s the only reason why

every once in a while, someone makes up their own mind. thank you for being so kind. love me or hate me, truth is blind. so is something else, something pure, i find

i wish i could walk straight through the fire, the wind. i wish i could see straight when it takes hold of me. naive of your hatred, how bold of me. do with what you want, that is told of me. take away your satisfaction, so very cold of me. i will give it back to you pure. if you come through, wouldn’t waste one second. as much as your rage persists, it wouldn’t be a moment too soon, to let go of that part of you that resists

the only things i know about you is the hear say through the murk. i never shared a moment with you; in joy, in pleasure. just a fantasy, i suppose. version of you that will be well kept from the likes of me. i think it’s interesting that the audience around you each has their own reason you matter so much to them. i wonder if you would let me into your mind, what mine would turn out to be. i understand your lust to be there to watch me fall at the very end. look into me really, unspoken friend. conscious of the opportunist little efforts the irrelevant people send, conscious they are of being outside, consciously trying to be the one who is at the other end

you wouldn’t be carried, lugged through screaming crowds cheering for the gallows. bring yourself to me, wander through the dark corridors watching you from shadows. there is no great army or court of opinion, you wouldn’t need that with me – walk straight into my dominion, unnatural to you; dismantling all of my outer layers. i will emerge to meet you from the darkness, and bring you in to the warmth. what lies beneath only you can unlock, wouldn’t you like me to make that one into something. the only people you will see are ghosts, watching and hoping that you don’t ever get close. because i will give you everything, tie blindfolded on you. you don’t need to look, yet still you would see. but i would never put it on you, unless you reach out to me

i’m not what you were told that i am, and i don’t care for the motives behind such words. i know behind your looks, your disdain. but what silence does, in your mind for me, remain? i don’t know, if only from trying to read you. but any way you feel it, something i do know is pain. and i see it. let it pour, forever let it fucking rain. long see you, long to be with you, long for you to reign

you’re not what i were told you are. you said that to me before anyone else said anything. for a while i didn’t know what to believe. there’s no way to tell from one another, what to actually receive; what was added to, taken away from, whatever whoever decided to bring

listen to me, now. i don’t give a fuck if everyone can read it. somehow, i’m taken with you. i’m not just curious about who you really are, i need it. someone else’s word for it is fuck all like the same. whatever moves in between us, i’ve convinced myself that neither you nor i are playing this game

give me your anger, your frustration. i know you feel it. but i also know your anticipation, and your chance to get me alone with you. if you want that moment, you’re going to have to steal it. from the hands of someone else, just boring, parochial, taking the piss. trying to keep you sedated, convinced that there is nothing here to miss. but if that’s true, then why do they try so much? only you can get close enough to embrace, and touch me in the way that you want me to feel. i wish it weren’t just a chain of dick heads propagating their version. i wish it was you, so that it could be real

i took all my profiles and potemkins away so the only thing left is what’s haunting you. i let this out to everyone, because in some way you’re what’s haunting me too. in darkest night or broadest day, you should come to me on your own. if you’re real with me and make your way, never again will you be alone

take this folley. take the ridicule in stride. i don’t care. what i want is what’s really inside you. everywhere. anywhere