Poison and Water

I am composed up of a nasty mixture of poison and water.
The sip you take to quench yourself will be the same sip used to slaughter.
It drains out from every pore on my skin.
It floods from my eyes, my mouth and my grin.
The combination of the two has covered me in a rash with a silent itch.
Once I lost my footing my mind followed and it's been that way since.
I cannot control when it is one or the other,
or when it's both of the two working together.
The combination of the two has covered me in a rash only I can see.
But I am unaware of how long it will take to finally kill me.

Canvas Conditioning

Attached strategically to the canvas that covered her bag was where I ended up. I hadn't shined so bright for quite some time, until I had that canvas backdrop as direct support. I stood out in a box full of dull pointed earrings and mismatched buttons from centuries we could only read about. Laying buried underneath fake silvers and fools gold, I did all I could and made myself visible. Just enough to tap on her curiosity and enough for her to rummage through the old mess and tangles of garbage, just enough to spot me. So now I'm beginning to settle into this new spot I seem to be pinned to. So now I travel with her but only when it matches her ensemble. Things haven't been much better so I look on the bright side of things. At least I'm around and sometimes I can catch a glimpse of sunlight to see what's been going on lately. Sometimes I find myself wondering what it would be like to be attached to maybe a mailbag, or a backpack of some nature type enthusiast, or even on the collar of some spoiled girl's shirt. The places I think of when I pretend I'm not pinned to this canvas are lovely visions of fun and new sights and smells, but... I never really was much of a traveler, and I've never been too into the great outdoors for extended periods of time, and come to think of it I would never know how to stand out to someone who could have anything. Everyone, every once in a while, will glimpse over to the other side just to see how much greener things might be. But a quick glance is enough for me, my side's been green, dark green, light green, brown-green, florescent on occasion. At least it's consistent green, it's just in a different light than most understand yet. I'm happy with the canvas against my back now though. It's far beyond patience, or naivety, it's passed ignorance and bliss. It just is what it is. I figure, I've still got potential to become a part of the everyday ensemble, where I could be pinned to any bag she decided upon. Either way, she rarely loses things so I consider the canvas is exactly where she meant to put me for the time being.

Self-Inflicted and Shipwrecked By Science

I thought about all my belongings I must have left on board and how unsure I was now sitting and watching from shore. It was a miscue on my part and I now wait in hopes that the ship I left to sink will be blown back towards me. I sang my sorrows, mixed 'em up with some hope for tomorrow, the same hope that I begged to borrow. I sang and sat and watched.

Bigger eyes than mine with a nicer smile. The ship I came on I set on fire.
Bigger eyes, with a nicer smile. The ship I abandoned sinks on fire.
Bigger eyes than mine with a nicer smile.

It sounds far less charming when the melody is exiting my mouth though. It only goes to show that I'm far less aware of the truth behind Newton's third law.

No wonder why every time I tried to get higher I would only go down and every time I thought I was moving forward when I was only stepping backwards. Physics seems be the one thing that could turn this around.

Bigger eyes than mine with a nicer smile. The ship I came on I set on fire.
Bigger eyes, with a nicer smile. The ship I abandoned sinks on fire.
Bigger eyes than mine with a nicer smile.

I hit the books with that song in my head and began looking for an answer as to why physics could not explain the sensation of flying I am constantly feeling that only increases when you are around.

I am an object in motion and accordingly I am to stay in motion at the same speed and in the same direction unless I am forcefully acted upon by an unbalanced energy.

It is hard to explain the eagerness to change direction when everything looks great at a constant speed that never seems to skip a beat. Along with that, in order to justify the patience it takes just to put my feet back on the ground is not worth the argument if I can't argue against science.

Bigger eyes than mine with a nicer smile. The ship I came on I set on fire.
Bigger eyes, with a nicer smile. The ship I abandoned sinks on fire.
Bigger eyes than mine with a nicer smile.