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To the End

By: Ezekiel Gonzales

“Speak from the heart”
What a load of shit
Cut straight to the point
did this all even matter?
From the start, the middle to that bitter-sweet end
 
A strange affair
A compilation of half-assed dates
Boring moments between two boring individuals
A couple of airheads
A blind trust formed by dimwits
Strangely normal, strangely plain
 
Formless wandering in a hollow husk
Dead, dirty skin flakes off my shoulders
Brain-dead is labeled across my head in bold
Casually tossing what remains out on the curb
I don’t seem to care
 
Remaining the same day by day;
“There’s always tomorrow,”
“I can’t reach the phone, try again tomorrow,”
“It will have to wait for tomorrow,”
“Today is not tomorrow.”
Monotony brought flowers to my door
You preached about Today when Tomorrow was yesterday
 
All those tears won’t get you anywhere
what made you sad, anyways?
Turning away from closed doors and shaken dreams
what were you fighting for, anyways?
There’s someone willing to bid a “Goodbye”
what are you waiting for, anyways?
 
It’s all so maddening, tumbling, waking, apologizing
Shaking my fists in anger
falling down a steep cliff
rising with the morning sun
crying on my knees
Was I ever prepared for walking this world alone; life is throwing a curveball and I’m no batter
Hunched over the bathroom sink, my eyes see something extraterrestrial
like a bad trip on drugs
I can’t seem to break that nasty spell
 
Viewing life through a fish-eyed lens
the photo prints Hell
Oh, such a horrid sight but I can’t find the will to look away
Find a way to kill me
I can’t stand this any longer
Death is my only resolve
 
It’s all so maddening, tumbling, waking, apologizing
Shaking my fists in anger
falling down a steep cliff
rising with the morning sun
crying on my knees
Was I ever prepared for walking this world alone; life is throwing a curveball and I’m no batter
Hunched over the bathroom sink, my eyes see something extraterrestrial
like a bad trip on drugs
I can’t seem to break that nasty spell
 
Viewing life through a fish-eyed lens
the photo prints dying
Oh, such a pleasant sight and I can’t find the will to look away
Find a way to kill me
I can’t stand the wait any longer
Death is my only resolve
 
When the clock strikes twelve
When the night is at its peak
When the dark has spread through the room
Striking down—a bullseye!

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