Shopping CartsI owe the world nothingBut to you I owe the worldIm only dead weight in this boatBecause its only me and youThe fish dont bite this time of yearBut that doesnt matterWe keep on moving downstreamEndless awe, blue eyes, green wavesIf only I could speakMaybe I wouldnt feel so aloneIf only I could speak to youIf only I could speak
The Eminence Of Eternal SleepYou will be thereEveryone will be there with youIll be dressed upSuit and tie, makeupPlease dont cry, It hurts when you cryJust move onDont look backClose the lid and walk awayPlease dont wish to see meIt'll break your heartAnd dont cry, it hurts when you cryI hope that you live happilyBig house, white picket fence2 kids and a dogI hope you have funDont tell your kids about meIt'll bother themPlease dont cry, it hurts when you cryBuild a new lifeYou'll choose the best path, I know you willJust turn your back and leavePlease dont cry, it used to hurt so much
Stoned Back To RealityMetallic eyes pierce my backPoison fingertips brush my faceThe psuedo-security sets inAnd i am forced to complyThe dream becomes realityAnd the latter a dreamThe flipside of my own universeIs my own anti-universeMy reality is a dream
SharingThere are things in this world that I dont understandThere are people that I dont knowThere are things that I will never do with my lifeThere are days that I will never seeThere are places Ill never goThere are not enough minutes in lifeThere are people like you that I wont be able to share them with
Reunion of SoulsI have a razor in my handI have a picture in my headIf you cant be here with meIll come join youAnd everything will be okay
All Of MeIm a wide eyed childIm a serial killerIm a lieIm a sinnerIm a jokeIm a fallacyIm a bookIm a pathetic wasteIm a junkieIm a saintIm a spin-offIm a bastardI am everything that I could ever hope to beI am breathing, everythings okay
Looking For The TimeHaving not the wisdom to ruin my own life, I turn to youKnowing nothing of love or how to fall in and out of it, I turn to youReleased now are my demons, blame to be placed, I turn to youFreedom I have not, so once again, I turn to you.......And you disappear
Matthew 1220London took my breath awayI gasped, unable to find the nourishment in the evil air that settled after your plane departed.I shiver, willing to move on, but not bearing enough strength or courage to do soI burn, I pine, I perishI curse the day that London stole my better half
Bullshit Lies and False Pridestill lifestill bornwas i ever alive at all?i know that im not anymore
ElenaElena followed me homefrom work one nightand stayed for tea and eggs,and all that minimum wageand wars between the sheetscould bring.She said she was a goddess,daughter of a carpenterwith her long red, red hairand eyes as warm as hazel nutson Christmas morning.Her hands spoke brailleacross my backand made the silenceof Sunday into a prophecy.She left one Octoberjust like she said she wouldwhen the fireflieshad turned their wings to ash.And I found revelationin red, red wineand cheap red, red fabricthat came off in my handslike summer.
renovationsmy mind looks at my bodyand says, "i don't like whatyou've done with the place."
WineHead on a patisserie tablewith a wine-scented napkinthat I scrawled your name all overin the hopes it might necromanceor just romance youto this place, at this time,so we could be together againand although the guitarist knowsthat I'm broken beyond blueI keep reaching for the bottlein the hopes it might recreateor just replicateyou.
I'm too poor to feel so middle class.My teeth still ache from the dentist,but it doesn’t stop me from nibblingthe cheese danish I bought at Krogerthis morning, warmed by thirtyseconds in the microwave. My mugof hot chocolate is too big, and Idrink it all. The washer is on its lastcycle; the cat is purring at my feet.Netflix is background noiseto clacking keys, typing a transcriptof middle class morning that I’ll latercall a poem or a turning point,wondering when I became such an adult.
the polar opposite of translucencycradled in the echoof a cloudburst,the earth curls invisible fingersabout my achilles' tendon& pulls;she cries that i am notintended for the clouds,that my mind must not wanderbetween their susurrous concavesso i,furious with her insistence,her petulance,untether myself from the soft,diaphonous comfort of the heavens& sink,down into the weight of gravity.listless green blades welcome my soles,stimulating a tickle,an itch,a sneeze; i never have done wellwith nature,but oh,she is calling for me,soft-tongued and crisp in herown shadow,& i am sorely temptedbut no,no--i am not for the soil.lungs listless,she becomes my inhale;lightheaded& translucent,my alveoli shudderbeneath her force--i am not for the air, either.mellow-skinned,i stand beneath her onslaughtuntil she tires,her molten heart beating beneath my toes;unable to woo me with her facets,she pirouettes,cloaking me in one last attempt,a final shadow.my pores bloom& i r
to the ghosts with you, my deari came not to be kissed,or to have myself cradledin the curve of a throat,but to be broken,to be diminishedby your lack of affection& over indulgence of sexualization.but i,uneducated in your intent,found myself left entirely whole& incapable of the furyi had sought to sow between theridges of my aching ribs.
she suffers melancholy like the plagueshe cannot raise her voice to reachthe notes that she adoreswithout the ocean escaping from her eyes,and she cannot kneel in prayerto the god that she tries to lovewithout copper staining the pavement,but she can scream into a room and not be heard,and she can deprive her stomach and not be seen--but oh,these are not the type of talents to be appreciated,to be loved without condition,and so nobody does.
AgainAnother dayA new beginningAnother nightThe same nightmare
i. one way to wake to dawnhalf the time i neverwake - i lie half-sleeping understars made of the flash of headlights on oil spillsand smell the gasoline-stench ofdreams as they try to breach the breakwaterof my eyes.insomniac, they say, and i justlisten, half-alive -scientists wonder why we need sleep and i can only say,we don't. sleeping leads to dreamingand not a single soul needs thatkind of disappointment, anymore.but sometimes i find myselfjust shudderinginto sleep, disjointed, falling through the rabbitholes found in zeroes of one o'clock, two -and as i wake toshimmering sunlight shining through theblinds, across the walls, i find it's worth it (justthis once) to watch and learnhow something rises.
Scared ShitlessThe power of the razorThe power of the wristThe power of the mindAgainst the power of the wishDeath on swift wingsOr on slowVisit me tonightNobody has to know