Saturday, January 06, 2007

Behind Blue Bars

Behind Blue Bars

When we’re talking I am not writing
When we aren’t talking writing returns
The art needs my full attention
I must sacrifice myself for anything good to come

This isn’t meant to be sinister
I do not intend to become my very own haunted house
I just feel like I am suffocating when I am in touch
And when out of touch the art is my only confidant

The Nazi’s have broken out of my head
All the best wars have already been laid to rest
You probably will not understand this
Probably wonder what I am going on about

When we’re making love I am not communicating
When we are at odds the communication stops and starts
I remember you jumping up and down on the hotel bed while we listened to Blood On The Tracks; it’s the first time in a very long time that I discovered someone who was not holding anything back.

I know I disgust you
I’m not sure if I disgust myself.

Charlie 1/07

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