jamie jenkins: listen

• MP3 play whole song, hi-fi (broadband)
• MP3 play whole song, lo-fi (modem)

eleven-tenths of my time’s been spent struggling,
never quite connecting the lines
between the pit of my stomach and my tongue tip-
there’s just too many curves and the words kick my ass every time.

and every failure is a knife pushed in deeper,
every genius a torment i don’t need.
could someone please explain my proclivity to pain,
why it doesn’t seem to count unless i bleed?


well now the whispers in my ears
have raised their voices,
building up their platform
of guilt and self-doubt.
and there’s a wall layering up around me,
brick by brick.
i can’t move,
i cant breathe,
i can’t get out.


well, who’d have thought pulling teeth could get harder,
that (then) love could become (now) despise?
i have a hard time accepting this as just my point of view,
that there isn’t so much gray between un-truth and un-lies.

and the line between inspired and in pain
sneaks up on me when i turn my back.
and i can’t tell the difference between in faith and in vain,
i guess the brighter the light, the darker the black.


but how tempting is the lick,
the finger-curling
of the orange-blue,
that threatens to consume
at any time?
the more i fight it’s heat
the more it overwhelms.
how can this possibly rage
only in my mind?


more than all of my energy is wasted
in a war without triumph or defeat.
how bitter the sweetness i’ve tasted becomes
when i see the brilliant glory of victory.


well, now the screams in my ears
have hushed their voices,
replacing din with peace reserved for death.
with just
black
or
white,
i’m not left with many choices.
with both the losses and the losses weighed
there’s not much option left.


so eleven-tenths of my time will be spent struggling,
never quite connecting the lines
between the pit of my stomach and my tongue tip-
there’s just too many curves and the words kick my ass every time.