texts from deadrose [part zero]

"desperately grasp at words that float by in the air

and string them into a pattern

that one would make sense of

because sentences are just patterns

i don't really know how to speak 

because i form these patterns from many others 

that i have seen

and thought made complete

but fragments are so hard to piece together 

and i end up making more fragments

 because that's all what

 i am, am i

 not just a tapestry 

formed from the world itself

 nobody's words are their own and 

that's why people fall

 into being the prey of their own statements

and the ideas that people throw out 

your ideas are just patterns 

patterns from angels and demons of man, 

man, why do men and women of this earth

string together things in the wrong way or do i just misunderstand? 

Misunderstand what of the words i am

misunderstood, but really i don't think i'm misunderstood

because if someone were to completely understand me

i would live in fear every day because they know who i am from the inside out 

but that is never possible, so i live in between, 

behind the curtain, but back stage forever waiting my turns and my star scenes

Floating on my daydreams 

But nothing on this stage of life is as it seems 

The plans of curiosity 

Smashed by great monstrosities

People are dying and what to i have to say

But that, my friends, i have to play

Drink the stage life and go on 

What sort of actor am i? 

The one who is known for humor or 

the one that always harbors a secret, 

secrets, secrets of words again 

You don't know me i'm lost

it's the words the patterns of words i guess 

I'm dying and drowning in unsaid statements, 

unsaid fragments of the fragmented mirror."