I'm Anti-Clutter

This one was an interesting project. There's parts that I really like, and some not so much. But that came with the territory; I had the idea to sit down and write something with no plan, no pre-concieved ideas in my head. I sat down and closed my eyes, and just started writing whatever came out. Slightly ironic that it begins with "there is nothing to say." As lines followed lines, it began to take shape into the final product. While there was no original theme or subject in mind, I can now apply it to moments in my life. I don't recommend this approach to writing, in fact I almost always think of theme first and then write. But it was a fun process, and though a little nonsensical, I still like it.

There is nothing to say.
and I want it that way.
It ends. It fades.
It churns, catches fire, and drowns all the same.
I gave it a name.
I gave it a terrible name.
Was it without reason? This terrible name?
Because as it was, it existed.
As it is, it remains.
Meaning it stays dead, not plays dead.
So being that I named it, and my own lips phrased it,
had I any effect on the impending wreck?
And if so was it direct,
or of the side-variety?
Which is to say is it the name that ends it,
or another's propriety?
Nonetheless, it was I who named it,
labeled, and framed it.
But would it have ended the same,
were it without a name?
It isn't I who would know.
Which just goes to show,
that regardless of a name
the control existed not on this plane.
It's a fruitless debate.
It ended name, no name, fate, no fate.
There is nothing to say.
But I spoke anyway.

Siberian Tiger Does Not Rhyme With Spaghetti

it's kinda cold out here, baby
it's kinda cold
I think you must be crazy
cause it's cold out here, baby!

I've never felt it like this before.
And honestly it scares me.
What these eyes will try to hide
the nerve endings will tell every single time.
Your blood smells of irony.
Mocking the fact that you're here.
And it creates unsavory colors
in the ice that it covers.
If these temperatures speak of futures
and these shivers of our hearts
then my fears have been confirmed
and we are crumbling apart.
The fog joins hands with the moon
and they stand before the sun.
I don't know what day it is.
oh, how long? How far from the House are we now?

We march on to the invisible north
with every step forgetting home.
I never wanted to come out here,
but I guess I didn't want you alone.

How can you bleed in this weather?

Heaven

When I was sixteen I saw Heaven
if just for a second
A glimpse of the thousands upon millions
Celebrating final Victory
Endlessly. Timelessly.
Eternity, in a fragment.

You didn't let me stay,
but I'll be back.