Quite like this one.

This writing style is a bit different for me (poetry wise.) So it's interesting for me. I quite liked writing it though, so there might be a conversion here. Regardless...

"Something to Forget"

It can start with a late drive home
Where I'll turn the music dial
And let the silence slowly fill the cramped walls of my car
And let my words and my feelings and my heart
Sink into my mind, sink into my veins, sink into me.
Or when I'm talking on the phone
And my mind wanders off
Going on tangents in my head,
Digressions from far more than your background noise
When I'll get an idea, an idea, a thought for the masses,
Pretend masses, of course that is.

And though it's not always my car
My steed, my spaceship, my batmobile.
But in this instance it was
A red light, and a horribly complex adolescent
And what do you get?
Do you get it, yet?

I cannot fathom the drama
The quick quips, rusted lips, and spiteful bits
That I see between lovers today,
Yesterday, in script, and tomorrow
We've rehearsed, and we've written
Played the curse, still been bitten
By that goddamn snake,
That old--what's his name?
The one who likes to play the memory game.

I cannot fathom why exactly it is that
When we humans, yes humans,
If we could be called such a word,
(I suppose exaggeration works)
Feel and find it necessary to
Take a treasure and throw it back into the sea
Find a cure and choose to not use it
Take a gift,
The one gift that could mean
Everything and anything, everything and nothing all at once
And toss it away,
('Cause by now we've forgotten the snake)
Bathe in Lethe,
'Cause it's much easier to forget
Shower in Lethe,
'Cause it's much easier to pretend
That we do not know
When we've got gold in hands,
For the silver lining is too much,
For humans, yes humans,
To understand
So, we fear, instead.

To every heedless mind,
To every "human" who stared gold in the face
And decided it wasn't enough,
Because when is it ever enough?
(Oh, you're one of them, ey?)
Because while I sit in my batcar
While I rot in my spaceship
(When I really want Bruce's,
When I really want the Enterprise)
You sit and stare into your minxish vixen
Or your devilishly handsome bloke
And plead for your love to mean something,
Anything, everything, just one thing.

Because while I dip my feet in Acheron,
You'll bathe fully nude in Styx.
Nude because that's really you
Nude--just for kicks.
I haven't got gold to glare at,
I've only a few dreams,
And a few strong passions and a few affinities
So you can run with your banners of hate,
Prance through meadows with biscuits and medals
Congratulating yourselves on accomplishing
Everything, anything, just...one thing.
But I want no part of it,
I just want out of it,
(Or to find a way to get beyond...it.)

And, oh I cannot comprehend
Can't visualize in my head
But I've gotten to the point where I can only find sense
In the ones on the silver,
The ones on the silver,
The ones on the silver screens.

That I've got more in common
With Ender and Holden, Quinzel and Stark
Because to me they don't change
They'll forever stay the same
(There's no snake playing a foolish memory game)
Because they know their values,
They know their desires,
They rise for their passions
And fight fire with fire
('Cause who's to say water would work?)

But still, I realise,
I know it, I do.
That they are as hollow
As us humans, the very same humans,
(That I question are at all humans)
That as strong as their convictions,
And as strong as my afflictions,
They are the empty images
Written by the once, but never twice bitten.
In short, by the lonely.
And in short, I digress.

So maybe Lethe is perfection,
Maybe Lethe is what we aliens need
To keep on living
A life desired to succeed
Yet invariably proves to recede
And I can't say I'm any different,
I'm an alien, too
(So long as I get to be Spock
I mean, if that's okay with you.)
And maybe one day you'll realise
Maybe one day, you'll look your gold in the eyes
And say, "you are on the silver,
On the silver, on the silver screen.
You are my every, any, and just one thing."