matt smoot


Soul Mate Temp Service Bachelor - Poem by matt smoot

Relations, situations, they provide no explanations,
Three entries that offer a peak into the mystery,
A sensual lust that went wrong, a battered spirit who couldn't hold on,
And a record that kept skippin, at the same ole' song,

Photoestrogenic landscapes panoramic thighs,
Shutter speed timed, flash on her naked eye,
Enter the tomb Crimson Kilowatts swoon,
Images created with precision in the darkroom,
Run out of film, always keep a stash,
Polaroids equal quickies like a cure when we clash,
Aging picture, remains frozen in prime,
So divine watching two things develop at the same time,
One in real speed, other slow motion,
Captured occurrence drowned, love potion,
Flipside to event, only negative,
Our passionate world, only way to live,
You've been exposed, documented love is lost,
I was content, Pandora opened her own box

Dont understand it, never will,
Can't live with it, can't kill the desire to be in it,
No plots unraveled, simply a glimpse,
No euphonies, not supposed to make sense,
When I, see a soul that resembles a bruise,
Just another brick in the wall,
And every girl that I seem to choose,
Is just another half empty glass, both in our prime, life half past,
Take a picture when it's good cause the shit won't last,


She was my external angel with an internal hell,
Father would make porcelain swell each time that she fell,
Performed beatdown magic with his nighstick wand,
Soul she often sold body frequently pawned,
Tearducts worked overtime coulda filled up a pond,
More abundant than the water she couldn't afford to keep on,
Claimed to hear me, would never fuckin listen,
Addictions, afflictions one week she's fuckin missin,
Oh god train's spotted, look how bad you've gotten,
Null and void time release shootin up oxycontin,
Thick & thin we shared temporary bliss between battles,
Shining light in day but at night lost her to the shadows,
If the underworld couldn't, no one would have this daughter,
Special 38 year old, made a martyr,
The verse ends, cause thats what happened to her lifeline,
Can never change the fact that bullets tapped the spine of my dime

Dont understand it, never will,
Can't live with it, can't kill the desire to be in it,
No plots unraveled, simply a glimpse,
No euphonies, not supposed to make sense,
When I, see a soul that resembles a bruise,
Just another brick in the wall,
And every one that I seem to choose,
Is just another girl in my hall,

Of shame, pain and blame,
Ironic I complain, females, only thing that keep me sane,
They my souls that resemble a bruise,
Just another brick in the wall,
And everyone that I seem to choose,
Its just another girl in my hall,
Of pain, shame, and blame,
Ironic I complain females only thing that keep me sane


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Poem Submitted: Friday, July 29, 2005



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