You must be so lucky.....
Don't get me wrong. I am often mislead by the jewel stains in the eyes of boys,
But you must be so lucky.
I assigned myself to the wall.
Keeper of keys and secrets.
I lay blissfully in the echoes of silence I began to prefer.
Peering through the slumber.
Emerald green recognizes the need.
A snap in my neck and a break in the solitude.
You walk so casually into a sanctuary.
Untouched by man. Unannounced by women.
I am not an existence of intention and I am surely not going to give credit to the undoing.
Yet here you are. Flatfooted stumble into a fortress.
You must be so lucky.
My back lifting me up from the graze.
The warmth dissipating across the arms of the sole.
You're making noise and its not the kind that I enjoy.
A welcomed disruption but a disruption nonetheless.
Here comes another boy, I am to make an immortal mess.
A brewing storm beneath my shield.
Baby you don't even know that that half of me is already killed.
And so its funny to watch someone who knows nothing about war,
Adorn the existence the scorned and the love-lorn.
Your feet far behind your mind.
Your mind far behind your soul.
Your conscience something you consider after the thought.
You must be so fucking lucky.
Woke a monster with no intention of being one.
You woke a demon tired of the thrill.
And still. I feel nothing but still!
You know the absence of my skill and ills
Only makes you want to feel.
And this is where it gets confusing.
Is it you or is it me that I am using.
Because its superficial what I am choosing.
I refuse to believe you could be THAT auspicious that you use me.
It would be a pity if you genuinely thought I was the same.
Wait what am I doing........
You carry your swords and your armor like its normal
Like its okay to move through the world not ready for a fight but prepared
You walk.
Heavy footed in the light of your salvation
You must be so lucky
To have my fingers graze your neck and this keyboard so gracefully
To not feel but feel
To accept your arsenal as an indication of your need for war
To incite violence you push
To ignite fire you forget me
To instigate you handle me callously
Had you taken me into account.
Considered me. Looked at me not through.
Looked for me. Is it not true?
You must be so lucky.
I actually like the feeling of a katana across my chest.
So much so, I have grown accustomed to the blend of cold and sharp instances.
Boys with no regard for the severity of words, stories and hands around necks.
Men who stand up and say they are stand ups.
And its just funny .
The weight of the metal against my skin,
And the staring of my grin
Baby I am used to all!
The fire shaping and redefining.
The look of disgust in the inferiority of my submission
The confusion in my reactionless reaction
Sweetie I have been fighting since I was born
Whether you are the first samurai or the last
Its not the warriors I fall in love with
Its the prospect of the blast
And I know that's Crass
But I don't know to build things that last
That aren't a great wall or a labyrinth for you and your men to get past
You must be so lucky.
I don't want to fight you.
Weird.
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