his name was wanderlust
he told me a story of the ocean
and a girl with shells in her hair
he whispered into my ear
and held me as i shivered.
his hair was choppy,
deep sea blue
and he wore black pearls in his ears.
as he protected me from the chill of the ocean breeze
a warmth grew between us
and a kiss he offered to me.
the brackish taste of his lips
though normally deterrent
entranced me
for he was not a normal boy.
his name was wanderlust.
Filed under: Semi-Fiction
Where do I belong? What am I to do? Words scrawled on the back of my hand, a ribbon fastened gently on my ring finger. My future is as blank as an empty canvas and I’m holding a bucket of paint. What if I screw it up? So many things I must remember. I’m running out of time. The countdown to my birth is set to “hyperdrive.” I’m scared to dip my brush, but the paint is getting thin. What if I want a different colour? Mixing hues always ends in brown. I’m stuck in neutral, while others zip past to the finish. There are no short-cuts on this road. The gas tank is full but where is the clutch? I’ve never driven, and I’m afraid and confused. I will crash and burn. A splash of paint is all i need to inspire me, so why can’t I just heave the bucket? Fuck it, I’ll just hide it in the back of my closet with my easel and brush. I’m not in the mood to paint anyhow and there’s always tomorrow to plan the next 75 years of my life.
waterworks.
toy dolls.
goosebumps.
peter piper.
payday.
life.
trapped.
despondency.
vicious cycles go round and round like so many wheels turning shifting changing.
when will someone cut the lifeline? tell me now or watch me fall
Mommy and Daddy were in the mood
They were ready for some loving
The nasty was their favourite thing to do
But they didn’t see you coming
Mommy got sick and Daddy got mad
They decided to get checked
Shoulda seen Mom’s face and you can’t imagine Dad’s
When they found out they were fecked
You’re a catastrophic fetus
Catastrophic fetus
Catastrophic fetus
Catastrophic fetus
Oh, what to do, well what to do?
“It” can’t stay here for long
You were just a microscopic dude
Who knows where you could’ve gone?
A doctor, a lawyer, or an astronaut
You could have been in the Ice Capades
Instead, who cares whether or not?
Your life would have sucked anyways
You’re a catastrophic fetus
Catastrophic fetus
Catastrophic fetus
Catastrophic fetus
You’re a catastrophic fetus
Catastrophic fetus
Catastrophic fetus
Catastrophic fetus
Come on in, the vacuum’s fine
Come on in, the vacuum’s fine
Come on in, the vacuum’s fine
Come on in
Mommy and Daddy ain’t in the mood
And they won’t be for some time
It’s nasty what they’ve done to you
But at least you stalled her sex drive
You’re a catastrophic fetus
Catastrophic fetus
Catastrophic fetus
Catastrophic fetus
You’re a catastrophic fetus
Catastrophic fetus
Catastrophic fetus
Catastrophic fetus
Sometime hold an ice cube in the palm of your hand, in your fist. It numbs you makes you cold, unfeeling. You’re not even there. But then you cry. The water runs out of you, out of your hand, out. What was once as hard as ice melts into a lonely puddle, a lukewarm feeling of what was left. You tense up. Your muscles contract, sending a flood of it exploding out through your fingers, through the cracks that seemed to have accidentally spread open over time. You don’t know what to do, or how to clean it all up. You don’t even know where half of it went, since it’s almost invisible. You soaked up as much as possible but you just know you’ll step in some later when you have your shoes off. Oh well, though, you shrug it off because it’s nothing no nothing and you’re doing just fine thankyouverymuch. It doesn’t matter to you at all, nope, not one bit, you’ll even take off your socks HAH but secretly, deep down inside, you’re dreading walking back into that room ever again. All because of that damned ice cube. Why do you ever listen to me, anyway? Even though you know i’m right and it would have happened anyway. You just need a scapegoat is all. It’s okay, i forgive you, just never speak to me again. Why DO you listen to me..?
Osama’s workin’ part time at KFC
Osama’s workin’ part time at KFC
Osama’s workin’ part time at KFC
Osama’s workin’… at KFC
Everybody’s going round acting so crazy
I just wanna watch TV and sit here really lazy
But all they got on is the news which I don’t wanna see
And Osama’s workin’ part time at KFC
Osama’s workin’ part time at KFC
Osama’s workin’ part time at KFC
Osama’s workin’ part time at KFC
Osama’s workin’… at KFC
Laden’s gone a-missing, they don’t know where he is
He’s probably got 50 wives and 50 million kids
They think he’s in the mountains but they’re not sure totally
‘Cause Osama’s workin’ part time at KFC
Osama’s workin’ part time at KFC
Osama’s workin’ part time at KFC
Osama’s workin’ part time at KFC
Osama’s workin’…
Osama’s workin’ part time at KFC
Osama’s workin’ part time at KFC
Osama’s workin’ part time at KFC
Osama’s workin’… at KFC
