Feb. 27, 2005,22:45
I Do It To Myself (He Does It To Himself)
The snow powder has a way of settling
It fits into is predesposed lattice
Unlike puzzles, whose jigs were cut with purpose
And the dust, mostly us,
It settles to where it is most electrostatically welcome
My thoughts and feelings are not as directed
They precipitate and manifest
And in ungodly form they release their poison
I used to think that everything and even people
Were the ones that kill me and haunt me so
Yet, I find the fault and the fingers pointed like a gun
In myself and in my own doing
Or undoing, as a more fitting sentence is placed
It fits into is predesposed lattice
Unlike puzzles, whose jigs were cut with purpose
And the dust, mostly us,
It settles to where it is most electrostatically welcome
My thoughts and feelings are not as directed
They precipitate and manifest
And in ungodly form they release their poison
I used to think that everything and even people
Were the ones that kill me and haunt me so
Yet, I find the fault and the fingers pointed like a gun
In myself and in my own doing
Or undoing, as a more fitting sentence is placed
Every breath I inspire is a dagger for my ineptitude