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Time Enough at Last

by Ghost Machines

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1.
I. What if when we meet again our eyes are so hollowed out that we only see our own loneliness reflected like phantoms creeping in shadows We invented new ways to kill the pain until we invented new pains to kill We talk in circles within vicious cycles A blanket of eyes covers me — hell is other people II. This is definitely not what I envisioned But I’ll take it as an intermission Consider this: isolation as a chrysalis, not imprisonment Sadness is a gateway drug to happiness I’m still standing here confused like who’s path is this? It’s immaculate But I’ve got a back pack filled with Inspirational quotes to keep me afloat Because “the best way out is always through” I’ll meet you on the other side
2.
I just wanna drive far away and have my own summer Cuz this one is a bummer- one after another But I’ve been using this time to decluter Because I was feeling smothered I’ve been throwing pieces of my past in the trash Now I look back and laugh at who I thought I’d be when I got older Well, I got older and I got bitter Shit, I need to do better I don’t know if it’s the depression talking But I’ve taken a few missteps in the wrong direction walking I’m trippin’ There’s too much cynicism in my lyricism, its giving me a fucking brain aneurysm It’s funny how the misery keeps inviting me to the pity party But I’m busy - I’ve got plans To self destruct the construct constructed In my head that I’m better off dead New year, same me But I’ve got some work to do Can I borrow a shovel To burrow out this tunnel I need to sort through this dream stack And fill my back pack and back track To the fork in the road Where I sold my soul, stepped into the cold, big nothing Life during quarantine - this ain’t no party It’s like living in oblivion, oblivious to this Hit or miss subconsciousness Microphone check one-two, what is this? Motion sickness from going through the motions, motionless My brain is broken from drowning in the ocean of notions, I need to focus As another chapter closes I'll take a bow in roses
3.
Henry Bemis 03:12
Maybe I should listen to my own advice instead of standing on the shoulder of a sleeping giant but some days I feel like a phoenix rising colliding with a gasoline halo tornado waiting to explode, no slo-mo fuck, I'm stuck in a bi-polar plunge spinning black blaze of glory caught somewhere between the pages of this story a memento mori purgatory but that ol' song and dance has got me feeling winded wishin' it was simple jump ship, its sink or swim shit head for any port for direction make a decision - give up the ghost, get a new life and live it Cross the rubicon, keep calm and carry on trust fall crestfallen, landslide into a landfill this is my life still - same as it ever was watching the days go by like clouds in the sky Like I'm still looking for a way out, an escape route I need a strategy to better me, to break free of apathy's chains holding me back in daydreams life becomes stereo surround sound remixed and remastered in piss and vinegar I'm still here, motherfucker - I never left I just buried myself alive but not because I wanted to die I just needed a place to grow and to rediscover my own skin that I was stretching too thin over bones that rustle like paper in the wind and I was dizzy from the spin when my reflection started battles I couldn't win my given options - give up/give in and move on again I'm tired I traded my confessionals for subtext so find me between the lines perfecting rhymes perplexed and vexed - what's next? it's a heat seeking missile but i've gotten cold should've known all that glitter was fool's gold but miss me with that misery loves company frustrated incorporated profit sharing I've gone soul searching for asylum marching in like a lion trying to enjoy the silence but no man is an island so I guess it's back to square one I'll keep beating the drum like a dead horse in the sun Pleased to meet you I'm Henry Bemis pissing in the wind
4.
I know I need to clear my head and repaint the interior when I start to feel inferior But that self hatred closes in on me like an iron maiden And all I can do is bang my head Knives out, blades in The daze fades in As depression (w)raps around introspective poems that get dissected by friendly detectives I’ll misdirect the sentiment, send compliments down a road to hell paved with good intentions I’m so lost in translation My copacetic coping mechanisms have weaponized with cynicism They’re holding me hostage and I’m exhausted But I’m not as sad as you think i am I just keep shooting myself in the foot like I want to assasinate my own character I’m just running in circles, creating barriers my chemically imbalanced romance is really just a slow dance of damage but I’m actually okay, trust me Love life like you only got one life, right? sometimes the computer keys sink into me like teeth and reach beneath the surface until I bleed poetry I miss the days I wasn't so self aware self conscious of the audience that appreciate the honesty of human tragedy under pressure, building friction let it burst and bloom until it lacks definition I keep going off the rails on a crazy train of thought process off topic but I can't stop it it whispers in my ear "what'cha gonna do, when this mania runs wild on you?"
5.
Body Horror 03:49
I don’t need to retrace my steps to know I’ve made progress so why do I constantly second guess myself I guess it’s second nature now I need to break free from this dysphoria Dysmorphia sets in like rigor mortis I’m stuck staring at my reflection A constant collection of flaws arranged for deception — dissected As I go back, back and forth, forth Back, back and forth Like a magic bullet in a gravel pit Ricochet away until the shrapnel hits I used to tell myself Stop trying to fit in with the misfits And just exist Now it’s the same difference I keep looking over my shoulder Sara Goldfarb’s red dress rests on the edge of the bedside and sanity My body is a temple of doom With trap doors leading to rooms Full of demons staring at me Gnawing and pawing at my defeat Until they get their claws in me A pound of flesh For a pound of flesh I sacrifice my mental health If no one can love me until I love myself I’ll die alone full of regrets I mean... Someday, I’ll be good enough for myself And then we can discuss the rest I’m stuck staring at my reflection A constant collection of flaws arranged for deception — dissected My skin is a road map — massive, torn and jagged A body bag of big bones rattling ragged With too much padding added That I’m working on subtracting Self reflection feels like self destruction With every abstract attack Becoming more distorted until that Mirror image feels so foreign I buzz like Brundle Who will the stop the monster that I’ve become?
6.
Some days I wake up and think about how some day I won't wake up but I try not to let those thoughts take up too much space in my headspace it's just another manic Monday wishin' it was Friday I'm in love again I wish I'd stayed asleep today I wish this day would end Slow motion - my soul feels broken my heart feels heavy and my thoughts feel swollen as time keep pn melting and melding I'm sitting, collecting dust on a shelf I'm still holding my breath the cold air, it flows in, I'm frozen stored in a morgue of memories I hoard when getting depressed as the shadows creep closer I blur the curve and swerve into the gossamer I felt the phantom limbs cradle me comforting the lonely - if only to show me despite it's constant repeating this empty feeling is fleeting my heart keeps beating - keep breathing but why am I so dread inside? ...and so uncomfortably numb? We're living corpses from the moment we arrive Death whispers “No one gets out alive” Enjoy the ride We’re all just Roses plucked, cut, soaked in a vase Slowly dying on display Now I’m selling tickets to my existential crisis I’m not a poet, not a rapper Fuck, I don’t even exist

credits

released October 1, 2021

Korye Champion - Words
Justin M. Misch - Music

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Ghost Machines Kenosha, Wisconsin

Ghost Machines is an alternative hip hop group from Kenosha, Wisconsin. Their music blends many genres including trip hop and jazz with subtle goth and classical overtones.

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