Everything Is On Fire
Everything is on fire
They said I was crazy as a child
Well the fire on the posters on my walls
Causes me to rock back forth for fear
The fire will reach me too.
I pray it reaches you, you who doesn’t,
Couldn’t understand me.
The fire is spreading
I think it’s reached my face now
Because my face is on fire.
I think it’s in my brain now
Because I can’t seem to function
But only stars and burning red spots
On charcoal walls that once used to house
That which I call my collage of
Music, art, photography, etc.
It was beautiful, but now, on fire,
It has become even more beautiful
I bet I’m not saying the things you would expect
Well I don’t expect you to properly expect
What is expected of me, predictably unpredictable.
I go to bars to stare at the wall
Because it’s easier to look there than to people,
Who tell me, subconsciously,
That I will commit suicide one day.
The thought of suicide is a powerful comfort
That and the thing about music
Is the only thing I respect Nietzsche for saying.
He probably didn’t even say it but the fire said it through him
Right before the dragons came to slay him.
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