ENicole's Blog
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| A lighter chest with every exhale |
You wake up and the day couldn't be brighter...and you couldn't feel darker
You wake up and life's a breeze...and you couldn't feel colder
You wake up just to apologize...you fall asleep to remember what you've done
You wake up to feel exsistence's healing influence...but you're the disease
To survive has become my choice, no matter if I fight it, I'm still here. To live has become my dream. Do you still think I'm weak? Do you still think your margins are narrower than mine?
You wake up to remember you're alive...you deteriorate into sleep just to forget it | |
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| Thinking is A Dangerous Activity |
I guess I just don't get it.
What we say
What we do how we act
What we feel
It's beyond my understanding. God knows I try, but sometimes it's easier not too. Ignorance is bliss, but for some it is also an absolute way of life. I'd like to believe that I'm by no means ignorant, but some matters are out of my perception. I guess that's what happens when you give up though. Give up or give in. Who knows at this point. There's really no difference is there? Or maybe it's the difference that relies on me to hide it. I think Brent Smith said it best with "Sometimes goodbye is a second chance". If that's the case I've lived many of them. I've lost count with who's given up on me and who I've given up on. I return the favor of those who've lost hope in me by passing on the judgement to others. It's not fair, but we all have our vices, why should mine be questioned more than others. | |
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| Beaming Truth and Devouring Hope |
I am nothing more than the hand I've been dealt.
While this may not be the case for most people, it has become my inconvenient truth in life. Not because I can't covercome it but because I won't allow myself to. Each day grows further into the same blurred obscurity.
I know what I wake up to each day and that scares me more than if I were not to know. Instead of comforting guiding lights, voices of reason have become my long overgrown dread.
I once forgot what it's like to feel, but if this is remembering, I'd rather not. Instead, make me a flower in bloom so tha tmy journey can start anew.
I promise not to go astray, I promise to choose a path fit for the life I'm fighting for. | |
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| Falling Reprise |
So against the odds, it can only be right
Go against your heart if only to come out alive
All worth the fact you never feel defeat
And growing fears have no place here
When it gets so hard that life disappears
One forgotten heart beat
and you've lost it all
And we wait
Just to fall in line
It's too late
We've run out of time
*Falling in the black
Slipping through the cracks
Falling to the depths can I ever go back
Dreaming of the way it used to be
Can you hear me
falling in the black
Slipping through the cracks
Falling to the depths can I ever go back
Falling inside the black
Falling inside falling inside the black* | |
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| In Regards To The Rightful |
| I feel like I have made my mark. Unfortunately it appears as a blotch on society. A stain. Such a one that is often tried to be washed free of but still latches on with desperation only to continue to disgrace the lives it touches. We are allowed to choose what's right, therefore every path taken is in some form correct. Not to be mistaken with easy, painless or lighthearted, no just, in our own respects, correct. Who are we to blame but ourselves for the lost sport of destitute? We chose our paths, our loved ones, our undertaking. We look to no one but ourselves when those journeys lead to a halt or void. A heartbreak is easy to lie upon others, but it was us who chose the heartbreaker, so this feeling must be correct. Can deciding what is right be wrong? I know what's best for me though it's frowned upon, does that still justify its rightful qualities? We are taught to believe in our choices, but how can we when persecution lingers on every doorstep? Clouds of hope distort our vision and the hunger for help scratches at our throats. A longing that can't be sufficed. In regards to what is right we often go awry, but our choices lack the capacity for judgment and is often left to others to care for. A dreaded task only by those persecuted by the undertaking, yet enjoyed by those who live for the hunt. But my joy will never be in the hunt when I always live as the hunted. But my wings are sore and my restless feet tortured and it becomes where you can run no more. Facing truth is never easier than when you can no longer outrun it. But living by it is a different story.... | |
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| So much more to this |
The following is exaggerated. I don't really think this was (I'm not that negative lol), but this is what I feel others have tried to make me feel. No one should ever have to feel inferior to others especially not purposely. So read this if you would like and take it for what you will, just know that hope can always be present.
I never feel safer than when I'm lying in this hole. I built my bed here so I must be meant to sleep here. To live here. To breathe here. To contemplate where I could be. No, rather to contemplate where I'll never be...who I'll never be. To believe is to admit deciet and to imagine is a waste of time. Wasting time costs us material treasures and they're all that matter after all, right? Naturally we all leave our nest, but there is no sky, only ground. Some are meant to soar to new heights, Some are born to hit the ground running. Others are just meant to hit the ground. | |
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| Aaron Lewis Took The Fall |
And when it comes
you know that we can take it
you know that we will fake this
you know that...
And I know
just what will get us through
when nothing else will do
Can't ever miss the truth
When no one's ever felt it
So many
spark and fade
While we die by threes
Is it the end of comfort
When you can't see
I am not made
for disappearing
Honey thanks to you
I'm fine to walk alone
I can take your words
and keep on living
Everything you say
will help me to go on
Will it change
the end that's out of sight
When you lie on the inside
Of giving into sinking
And thoughts so deep
Heading home for comfort
But left so weak
So close to talk you through this
but I can't speak
I am not made
for disappearing
Honey thanks to you
I'm fine to walk alone
I can take your words
and keep on living
Everything you say
will help me to go on
So many
spark and fade
While we die by threes
Is it the end of comfort
When you can't see
A time of disenchantment
that brings defeat
A lifeless void of regret
It's so weak
I am not made
for disappearing
Honey thanks to you
I'm fine to walk alone
I can take your words
and keep on living
Everything you say
will help me to go on | |
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| Heightened Generations And Overgrown Situations |
I am over now
Just hope it's gone
Take this journey now
But make it long
I can't stand the thought
of thinking wrong
Just take your followers
And string them along
This is the story
Of where it all will go
Just listen closely
It's never-ending
Take your warnings
Then spell them out
Feed the hunger
But drown the doubt
Giving consequence
To what you found
Then take your courage
To sing it loud
This is the story
Of where it all will go
Just listen closely
It's never-ending | |
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| Always Been A Piece Of Cake |
A matryr with
a discerning breath
Could you take this to your grave
Red iron's heat
Can't feel defeat
Take your failure to display
And crumpled hearts
Will take their fall
Leaning closer everyday
Hanging on
to every word
A portrait of just what they say
When ashes turn to coal
You gain your salted soul
With all the schemes
and every remake
of what you wanted to say
Allow me to be
Your common mistake
I may not breath
but I can fake...fake
Grab your coat and get the hell away from here | |
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| So Long To The Memoirs |
| You can tell just what it isn't by how much of your being is filled with regret. You get to a point where you can look back and realize how every foot print that leads to where you are is puddled with empty, unsailed waters. Waters that flood your thoughts and drown you in memories. Deviating from all you thought you knew can cause these waters to become choppy and the currents of despair to pull stronger. In the interest of saving yourself rather than your "ship" we begin to contemplate the boundaries of overboard and the lack thereof. | |
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| Overwhelming Proof That You're Nothing But A Fake |
I've been up and I've been down
I've been lost and too long bound
To all that we've been haunting
And everyting that's causing
These lost words that we let slip
Fell too fast to catch our grip
So hard to keep on running
From all that we're becoming
Getting up was never easy
When you fall apart at my feet
And you never seemed so clever
When you lie in your deciet
Tell me was it worth
The way you tangled all the webs you weave
Give it up again and explain
How you're the only one you cheat | |
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| We Only Survive As Conditions |
By the time we stop this beating we'll feel our conscience kicking in. But wool has never been stretched so far and sheep's skin has never been worn so thin. So we keep marching in time even though the clocks are broken. Time may be drained but the hourglass is still fed.
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| Red Waves of Alchemy |
We all travel our own circuit. A journey that brings us back to our start and often away from our destination. Most journeys are filled with undulations, others tainted with unmagnified chemistry. We ride on Red Waves of Alchemy. We swim in the Sea of Claims.
....sorry, I'm kinda getting into the whole subtle sociopolitial thing | |
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| Memory of the Masses |
| Broken hands tend to be left devastated. Understandingly open; unfortunatley disadvantaged. Never given time to heal but instead worked to the rusty, brittle bone. Old news passes and is replaced. How to realize? How to modify? Barely able to breath, these hands have held on, these hands have let go. | | Tags: poetry |
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| Work In Progress for Red Waves of Alchemy |
I'm still working on this one.
Basically, it's a song I want to write about how there are people out there who not only take credit for EVERYTHING, but also try to get you to forget about the people who have made things what they are today. People have selfish, greedy streaks and sometimes it's hard to cope with.
You had us all fooled
Thinking we could win this time
Covering the footsteps
Of ones we used to love
And still we let you live a lie
I'm starting over
By the time you stop this beating
You'll feel your conscience sinking in
And lessons learned, we'll never retrace
We'll be back to live it all again
© 2008 Kilter Aesthetic | |
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