In the Rain

No one knows how with me.
Because I'm too whatever the hell it is.
Well, I admit it, Everyone! I'm a freak.

I look for foundation and what do I get but degradation? What do I get but dehumanization? I can't live without it, don't you people get it? No. How could you? How could you? You're human! You're human! Do you understand your gifts? How can you not understand your gifts?

Try this Life: the silent voices scream incessantly insdie you, beyond your ears, beyond your eyes and the vibration never ceases.

It drives you mad until the Madness breaks you and you break it back but you lean on each other beacuse you're selfish and you want to be remembered for something you were only the victim and the instrument of.

Do you know how the world looks in black and white? I want it to be color again but the veil is back in front of my eyes and I try to wipe it away but the veil is there and the words aren't clear so I can't let them out. I want it to turn color again but the ink won't subside. It's physical. Not in the mind. Physical colorblindness. Try it for a second. It'll scare you shitless and for a moment there you'd rather be blind.

My mind has been arrested by itself and the Madness. Again, again, it's been arrested and there's no liberty to be gained this time. No liberty. And the liberty of the past was only illusion.

Watch it destroy me like it used to. Watch it destroy me and watch me pretend it's all all right. I'm a great pretender. I'm a master pretender, creating for you an illusion of myself that can never be while I look back at you and the image is black and white. No image but the swift and beautiful motion of letters into words into sentences into paragraphs into pages into prophecies of how the world might be.

That's my job: take you on a sojourn, give you a respite. But I never get to partake. So now you measure the worth of being an artist. Whether to cry for not being one or for one.

You'd best cry for them beacuse they can only cry through rain and their own tear ducts are dry. But no one cries for me and the rain doesn't really care.

At least you can get back to yourself. With me, there's nothing to get back to because I'm nothing but a medium for hell to pass through earth.