SymMetrical

Back Packers Packing on the back Of Kickstarter Backers Backpacking past the Blast From The Past Inspired by a couple of rappers And star-spangled Tangled Stars thought to be from Mars Driven away by the fear of driving cars Haunted by the face I keep inside of a jar Inside a room I keep slightly ajar Sometimes I think I've gone too far And feel as though I'm being eaten by the bar Even though I've kept you on the other side of the bar I promised never to drink How'd I end up in a bar? A parent destined to be a star Apparently the parent didn't go very far Apparent that her errant future found her way out of Illinois The youngest child Destined to meet a boy Who couldn't love with his heart A stupid, brilliant boy Who became the father I want to tear apart Well Sometimes Sometimes during this ever so frequent Unloading of my shopping cart heart It's difficult to tell my feelings apart OR WHETHER OR NOT I CONTINUE TO BE LABELED A...

School is the only thing I can talk about anymore This thing's swallowed up my whole life And I'm not studious I am only a student Assigned to climb Mt. Vesuvius And it's tedious And it's ludicrous And I don't plan to climb mountains later But should I be listening to myself? Or this thing the teacher's telling me? That I should " try out for the school play Because it's the only place where you can be yourself " And Iv'e been getting so afraid lately To do all of these things I thought I had gotten comfortable doing And Iv'e been finding it a lot harder to talk to people And it makes no sense I thought I had beaten it. But I don't know anymore. School is the only thing I can talk about anymore

You try to help Try to help another person Within your power and permission Aiding of your own volition Because you wanted to and because you needed to and because nothing else now matters In the world now spinning patterns The silent stirring Teething; Chatter Nawing on the simple notion  Tear down the wall Complete devotion The Screaming Slurring Sound Commotion Drown in the ocean In slow motion

We write personal statements To state things personally And to try to appear more  Like a person to UC's But I hope that you see The eternal absurdity Of grading words on a paper To evaluate someone perfectly Because sometimes diction Can speak louder than fiction And sometimes lying rhymes faster While the truth drives constriction But the truth can be  a beautiful thing even when the next line tends not to rhyme But for the truth to echo louder than similar syllables You need to watch the words And read deeper into what you're reading because while rhyming sounds better the meaning can be misleading Sometimes through writing We get carried away with the symmetry of sentences And we think with enough syllables we can reach the pinnacle Of what we think it really means Really means to be understood We paint a picture to appear more visual But only if that visual adheres to the same principles And I'm sick of r...

Cascading down the highway's back Car's nestled in their grid-like stack On clouded sky appears...a crack Time stopped along it's twisted track stoplights stopped; no green nor red curtains drawn on unmade bed Not a thing was heard; Not a word was said The end had reared her ugly head. But something stirred; one thing remained A loud beating heart that was still self contained In a webbing of tissue and organs and teeth Nestled in earth like an organic sheath This was the footprint of God's greatest image The only Thing left from their very last scrimmage That stopped the earth turning 360 degrees A fine testament to humane expertise.

Clean Machine You're the naked tambourine  A-rollin' around with cut-throats Preteen queen Hooked the world on her caffeine  Weaving baskets in Padded cells Make believe redistributed vaccine   Can quite voices Deep inside See pristine faces on the TV screen Better cut off the Connection

RingRingRingRing A dream is broken As I'm suddenly awoken By the flickering of plastic stars That are hanging and smoking I feel like last week's Sloppy Joe's second's just Chewed up and spat out My brain onto the side-walk rust But at least I'm outside (so I guess that's a plus) Still drying the bacon-grease Out from underneath My lower intestines While the neighbor police -man's double-checking his piece Man, these bells and whistles are beginning to give me indigestion And I'm running out in a cold sweat Was just injected with a week's suspension All I do is kiss toes to give a good impression And at the same time I try to hide the unintentional fist impressions Which left a small indent of the life I thought I loved releasing bad intentions

Pastoral makeup and painstaking break up Painstaking...being the pain from the piercing of the stake, but for goodness sake The pain comes in waves as opposed to courses on a plate To feel belittled by the riddle The twisted idea of fate, it's lost, too late To fiddle with the letters written down on the slate To close your eyes as an attempt at pretending Pretending to pretend it's your friends you're defending Fate, to put it lightly, is quite simply impending The theory that some day your Uncle's world will be ending The fact that a coin can travel years; pending Only to fall into the hand Of a man with the ability to stand On the cusp between the good, the bad, And the promised land. Founded on grains of sand

And yet as I am speaking As I am speaking time is fleeting For another way to grasp I cannot grasp For hand is far too soft Too smooth Too fare I cannot wait another year Another day To make my mark upon A flower, a flower such as she A flower that had picked             me How can we continue living Living Living both our lives permitting Permitting? Permitting what? I cannot see… The shadows falling over me And I lay quiet in the night Waiting for the time that’s right The time I may The time I might Strike upon the flesh on sight Attaining words so that I might Describe your grace, your charm Your plight How am I able to live your life A life untouched by torment And waste To waste such valuable time What I would give To turn at a dime What I could give to make her mine To touch the frame That framed my world A world unfurled Unmasked by pain And aching Tension rises And b...

What     can     I     say     ? Two thousand thirteen's on the brain And although I think I've gone insane There's really no-one left to blame Except for me And All The Thoughts I Thought I Thought About And all things in between Like working out and losing weight and meeting friends and making dates and finding a great job before it's too                  late And it's strange to think that my appearance hasn't changed and that my friends are getting smarter every day but I am just                       fading away I think that lately it's been too                                    Simple To bow out of a situation small enough to make a Ripple soft enough to make a Trickle And yet I find myself inside the same Pickle With learning ...