Scattered Two by Fours
Im looking at the floor, wondering if anyone is listening
I glance up for a minute,
And no, no one is paying attention.
To my poem about flowers and dancing,
About the happiness you can find in life.
They all just sit there,
Drool trailing onto their cheeks.
I sit back down and sink into my desk, hoping it will swallow me,
And transport me to a world where no one sees me anymore.
To a canyon where I can throw my arms out,
And a fairy comes and takes me to its world,
Where they wipe your memory, and all you do is soak in the sun.
Out to the checked floor once again,
Having all time stolen by the clocks that tick around you.
But the best of the day is yet to come,
The part where you eat.
Where the food just fills your time and keeps you busy,
Slowly gaining pound by pound.
I walk into a closet,
Sit against the wall,
Close the door and start singing.
All of a sudden, a little voice starts speaking.
It puts you to sleep with its hurtful words,
And you drop away from the world.
Through a trap door in the floor,
That sends you down a slide to a place where things are broken.
Where all the wings dont work right,
Where speaking is like rasping,
Where everyone can wander by themselves,
And no one bothers you.
Where having a face isnt necessary,
Where eyes can wonder and no one will mind.
This is the place I wish was my home.
I get snapped back into reality,
Where my mind doesnt make the places I wish to be.
I unlock the door,
And sneak out of the building,
That for some reason I entered on this freezing rained night.
People are pointing and whispering,
But I pass all of that.
They start chasing me, and I start running,
But by the time I turn the corner,
I realize no one was ever there,
I only wished them to be chasing me.
And Im left on the dark wall of the building,
Touching the sides,
Trying to coax out the history it holds.
Maybe my own bones will become part of its history,
Buried in the walls,
After sitting in a cold tree for hours,
Slowly forgetting everything.
Thats okay with me though.
This tree has a sturdy trunk,
I know it cant make me feel sad or slap me across the face.
I just rub my hands over the bark,
And hope one day,
That Ill become one with the tree,
And exist in my other life,
On the floor, with scattered two by fours.
I glance up for a minute,
And no, no one is paying attention.
To my poem about flowers and dancing,
About the happiness you can find in life.
They all just sit there,
Drool trailing onto their cheeks.
I sit back down and sink into my desk, hoping it will swallow me,
And transport me to a world where no one sees me anymore.
To a canyon where I can throw my arms out,
And a fairy comes and takes me to its world,
Where they wipe your memory, and all you do is soak in the sun.
Out to the checked floor once again,
Having all time stolen by the clocks that tick around you.
But the best of the day is yet to come,
The part where you eat.
Where the food just fills your time and keeps you busy,
Slowly gaining pound by pound.
I walk into a closet,
Sit against the wall,
Close the door and start singing.
All of a sudden, a little voice starts speaking.
It puts you to sleep with its hurtful words,
And you drop away from the world.
Through a trap door in the floor,
That sends you down a slide to a place where things are broken.
Where all the wings dont work right,
Where speaking is like rasping,
Where everyone can wander by themselves,
And no one bothers you.
Where having a face isnt necessary,
Where eyes can wonder and no one will mind.
This is the place I wish was my home.
I get snapped back into reality,
Where my mind doesnt make the places I wish to be.
I unlock the door,
And sneak out of the building,
That for some reason I entered on this freezing rained night.
People are pointing and whispering,
But I pass all of that.
They start chasing me, and I start running,
But by the time I turn the corner,
I realize no one was ever there,
I only wished them to be chasing me.
And Im left on the dark wall of the building,
Touching the sides,
Trying to coax out the history it holds.
Maybe my own bones will become part of its history,
Buried in the walls,
After sitting in a cold tree for hours,
Slowly forgetting everything.
Thats okay with me though.
This tree has a sturdy trunk,
I know it cant make me feel sad or slap me across the face.
I just rub my hands over the bark,
And hope one day,
That Ill become one with the tree,
And exist in my other life,
On the floor, with scattered two by fours.