Beneath the Shell

I am sending chills by words
Drowsy, drowning in this headache of mind control.
Walking in the room I am intoxicated by the perfume of your grace.
It is something no other woman can pull off quite like you
All I see now is the silver outlining of heaven
These white doves singing up above, and the man in a red tarp.
I thought I had you smiling, but I have said too much,
Too much in a world that expects too little from me.
Are you ready to die for me?
Or is it death that has you question your existence?
If you are afraid of the book of revelation, then live to die,
And smoke some anthrax, drink this glass of aids with me
And pop these pills of death
But if you live on the hot edge of life,
You make me stop, and look around.
In a wonder that is so great, it's no mystery how it has me tipsy
Predestined to have a head on collision with reality,
Waking up in the morning to a glass of water and some Advil.
But my reality check has bounced, and left me cutting through the wind.
Through the air I fall, like an angel with no wings
It's a simple eclipse of the substance of reality, that keeps me walking on the clouds
You are my only ray of light up here,
And you shine light on this train wreck I call my life.
All these politics of love and hate have me soul searching..
It is the relevance, in light of the words spoken
That has resurrected my feelings hidden beneath the shell of my soul.
So as another morning light slithers up your bed sheets
You hang up the phone - and just think of me.
Reunite the phone with the receiver and see your morning grow old
Drift into the oblivion of the unknown and wait for me.
Clearing your future - the dial tone, of my existence.

Poem by J.A.D. © 2002