1:05am

A Poem by Killian

Just something I wrote at that time

And so I sit amidst the yellow glow of the incandescent lightbulb, softened by its tan shade. I feel like my walls do cold and grey. Yet unlike my walls I am not simple I am complex.

why am i writing this? what causes my fingers to move? is it Beethoven that causes these cold and dead fingers to move?
memories flash in my mind's eye, like the flashes from muzzles of guns
they should be beautiful, they are, but then why do they hurt like bullets tearing away at my flesh,

no maybe deeper than flesh could anything go deeper than flesh? soul? emotions? feelings?
maybe they tear my emotions, that may be it?
leaves them on the ground to look up at the open sky at what could have been but there lying realize that it is not.
like the shards of metal from explosove barrels soon there are so many memories that it is no longer fear but a sense of....
I can't find the word so i start a new line, this will be one of the
most confusing orders i may have written in but the again maybe it's just fine to you
it's not a matter of
i don't know what I was trying to say the words just keep coming out of my mouth like the music plays

i don't know much but i do know one thingm one thing that was always true from the beginning, though my surroundings have burned down, toppled and crumbled, i always knew that one thing...

but will it be enough you think, can there be a way out of this one or is it just like every other story that came before, were they right all along? will ther eever be peace for me?
maybe not maybe i was meant to walk but with the wind kicking dust behind me heels...behind not beside, even the wind...i dread, no i am dread, no i just dread, but there is nothing to fear,
but then there is something beneath the surface sumthing
unknown sumthing i can't place my finger on, no one can, sadly it may never be found and the structure which once still tall and gleaming may never stand again.

crippled i be, my only escape from reality is but a dream then there is no escape is there?
no there isn't it's inevitable only time will tell the only thing that is ever sure is that time continues and leaves you with feelings of either joy or misery, I want joy, i want joy, but mistery is there,

i'm alone again, i talk to my shadows on the wall created by the light shining, even they don't answer, isolated in here i don't know who i am anymore, i must find myself underneath the rubble but will i like what I find? what if the rubble only causes the ground upon which i push on to stand caves sending me deeper into a hole of despair? will it be so bad? have i not been there before? will i not have freinds to greet me

upon my return
to the despair the city where there are no need for answers or thoughts because it does not matter

but that place i do not like i was once on top of the world but it seemed a glass globe and shattered underneeath my ambition,

i ramble on 25 minutes later....what is this i am writing? is it a poem? i don't know maybe maybe not you tell me, because in the end it wont matter anyway, it's just another bundle of time that i used...

i want joy, and i want us to be happy

it's 1:30am and i can finally sleep easy for now.......rest easy....self