Amerrriiicaaann
"We say anytime, anywhere, just show your teeth and strike the fear
Of god wears camouflage, cries at night and drives a dodge"
"We say anytime, anywhere, just show your teeth and strike the fear
Of god wears camouflage, cries at night and drives a dodge"
Senses
Bitter is the taste,
Your nectar gives,
Upon my cheek and mouth.
So syrupy and sweet,
To touch, to kiss,
Along your bearded lips.
As mine are salty,
A tear upon your cheek,
Dripping slowly,
Across your crown,
A king in any sense.
And I, a witch,
To cast a spell,
Manipulate your heart,
Until it crumbles,
Turns to stone,
And makes a dying sound.
You And Me Too
There was never a going back.
It was all just pretend.
A figment of our minds.
Thrust into reality for a moment or two.
Only to disintegrate,
Back into the realm of imagination.
And everything that was palpable.
And so very true blue.
Everything that we grasped onto,
Everything we depended on.
Just seems so phony.
It just seems so worthless.
This waste of time has stung me,
With the worthlessness of,
A once meaningful task.
The ways in which you affected me,
Are now the things that have become me, you.
And so with everything that you have made me into.
A monster, a creature.
With blood red eyes and murky heart.
With sharped senses and sandpaper skin.
Begins to form me.
The being I am.
I guess there was never really a going back.
Contrast
The amazing thing about beauty, is that, it is only intensified by darkness. It is only more appreciated under the existence of sin. The existence of negative forces in our life cause us to admire the beauty of our world in a new and profound light. Lately the things i have seen with a new appreciation for have been...The woods on a crisp fall day right as trees are either dead or dying. The the way the sun shines through the over brush leaving thin trails of light along the path and casting shadows down the trunks of every decaying tree.
How intricate and delicate every thorn on a rose bush is. How they almost outshine the beauty of the most perfect rose.
The molting feathers in the bottom of my birds cage. How they're grey and small, but the perfect color. Not too cold of a grey. Just the right tinge. A comforting grey that reminds me of his eyes.
Boy
There was always a bitterness about you.A sort of self pity and raw intensity.
That got me off.
There was always that sweetness in your touch.
That light brush of your fingertips across my hip.
That made me giggle.
There was always that Georgia drawl.
The one you tried to hide behind your Boston lips.
That made me laugh.
There was always a spark in your heart.
A tiny fire keeping you warm.
That made you human.
There was always that thick gray smoke.
Smoldering away in your pupils.
That made me want you.
But there were other things,
Those T.V. shows.
Those lap dances.
Those drunken calls.
And spilled drinks.
Your unshaven chin.
Your dirty fingernails.
Your smirk.
Numb3ers
Did you ever understand,
The complicity of our love?
Or maybe it was me,
Who didn't comprehend,
The simplicity of our love.
Maybe it was me.
Just maybe,
I over analyzed.
Over calculated.
Our formula.
Maybe we were never the mathematical type.
Maybe it was just me.
Just maybe.
Without numbers and calculators,
We could have made it.
Bite
Sometimes the simplest of things,
Can become the hardest to bear.
Like when you touched my eyelid.
And told me to sleep.
Or when you ran your fingers through my hair.
And told me to fuck.
Or when you hit that piano key.
And it rang for hours inside of me.
Sometimes the darkest nights,
Will keep you awake.
Just wondering how did I become this way.
So bitter and haunted,
Just lost in the dirt.
Digging mud out of your soggy brain.
And bitting your nail.
Tasting blood that's already become stale.
Sometimes you lie out of need.
But most of the time you just don't say anything.
Your eyes are so hard.
But your hands are so tender.
Living your life to the chords,
Of an out of tune fender.
Strumming away til your drunk.
Just looking to find the right funk.
List
Crawl.
Creep.
Devour.
Destroy.
I've made this world for you to enjoy.
Sin.
Steal.
Make.
Ache.
Even a child's heart try and break.
Kill.
Decay.
Manipulate.
This game.
The world is getting pretty fucking lame.
No Fun
When your secretsUnraveled themselves before me
You took a sigh of relief
Like the creature clawing at your heart
Finally slept.
But my creature wept.
Because the strength it took to let yours rest
Does not exist inside me
And I felt naked in my wool sweater
Exposed to the elements of a harsh winter_
I knew was yet to come.
I pray now that you never know
Or find out.
About what I really am.
;)
I'm not going to take the time to write an actual blog about the events of tonight, your just not worth it.
Fruit
How does it taste?
The bitterness of her voice.
How many times have you relived that sensation_
Sour lemons. Sliding around on your taste buds.
Dancing a waltz along the ridges of your tongue.
Dripping down your once soft lips.
Lips that are now cracked and stinging from acidity.
Lips that I touched, inside your maroon sheets.
While we whispered to each other, your skin_
Glowing from the light of the television
Casting a shadow onto your father's old radio.
Playing illusions on our eyes.
Confessions Part II
I think I fell in love with you.And those eyes you hide behind busy brows.
The way you admire your dad, and the way you read that composition notebook, your voice filled with such a raw intensity. They way your hand shook and I had to stop it. The way you like to hear your own voice but not in a pretentious way. The way your clumsily beautiful. The way your real and so breakable. The way he asked me if I wanted you and I laughed and said I was going to bed. And I did. With no regrets. Not for the lie or for the sleep. So when you woke up we smoked our butts and I said my goodbyes but you didn't know it. If anything, I think you have beauty, embedded into the deepest sections of your soul.
"What do you mean we, paleface?"
Ber The Bear
I woke up in the middle of the night. Your were sound asleep. Your back was against mine. And I shivered in my purple flannel, because we had no covers. Just sleeping on a bare mattress in the middle of your friend's dorm. And all I could think about was that Leonardo Di Caprio we had been watching earlier and how fucked up it made my brain feel. And my toe still hurt from when I stubbed it at that party. We smelled like beer and cigarettes. Then in the morning you took me to China town and we looked at samurai swords. Just kids.
Season
The photograph of us floated away through the murky water while we were tire jumping into you grandfathers lake in late august. I found it washed up on shore that september. A fish had nibbled out our eyeballs. We were just blind. And grinning.
We were transparent,
Simple and see-through.
Brilliant and naive.
Swimming in a sea brimming with hope.
Your acorn beard scratching my fingertips.
Warning me of august.
Pony War
When I thought you were dead_
I sprinkled_ rain water
Across your eyelids.
And said a tiny prayer.
For your unborn son or daughter.
Who would lose the sight of your face.
For good.
Rhymes With...
You always turned me on so bright.
Liked to watch me all ignite.
And burn away with all my spite.
Used to think you were my shining night.
Riding on a horse so white.
Overcoming every plight.
But now I know your filled with fright.
Got so many ghouls to fight.
Bathing in the pale moonlight.
Looking for a way to make it right.
Textbook True
Yeah, well it's been a dream.
A real good dream.
But I know when the going gets too damn good.
It's really just pretty rough.
I guess I'm really sick of learning lessons,
From you, in my dreams,
While i toss myself.
Just reaching for a part of you,
That wasn't ever fiction.
That was really what it seemed.
Hard and textbook true.
I guess that was never really you.
"I guess your kind of truth is just a ghost of your lies, I see through them all the time."
Blue Baby
Your eyes can give you away on hot summer days. I know your sweating when I see your irises turn gray. And your hair can hide everything but the truth. Because the more messed up, the more fucked you are.
Sweet girl, getting lost in such an ugly world. Such a pretty face, such a child's smile.
"...Can't you find a clue when your eyes are all painted Sinatra blue..."
Aspiration
Ever meet someone so mind blowing, so explosive, so vibrant and filled with a sweet and genuine goodness? Someone who leaves you completely yearning for their company that everyone and everything sinks into the murky grays of everyday living. Someone who leaves their essence so deeply entangled into your soul that it becomes a part of you. Someone so pure and so beautiful that they just leave you speechless and in awe of the possibilities of the world and the potential of your own humanity. Someone who defies the boundaries of love with just a glint in their eye. Someone who can look in the world for its beauty and say "I will not be broken by you, I will not succumb to the evils you burden on my shoulders. I will not hide or cower in fear of your wrath. I will not lose my faith or my love because of tragedy. I will remain strong, yet open and tender. I will not let this world destroy everything I have been blessed with."
Aliens
We're all just waiting.
Waiting for something to come.
Something to take us.
And break us.
And make us really live.
Something to shake us.
And make us.
And let us just forgive.
Plant
There are things.
Things that can rip you open.
Things that can rip you open and plant seeds inside you.
Little growing seeds that feed off your good.
Little growing seeds that yearn for the warmth of you blood.
Little growing seeds that manifest darkness and wrath inside you.
In one moment.
One instant.
They can tear you apart.
And everything you even have known.
Love, Christ, family,
Will disintegrate beneath the burden of what you've seen.
The secrets that caress you late at night.
The secrets that hum you to sleep.
The secrets that keep you cold on summer nights.
Just shivering under you quilt.
Regrets
Tenderness never suited me all that well.I kind of always turned too bitter.
Lemon-y and sour for good.
And your touch never suited me all that well.
I kind of always turned back to him.
No matter how many times he pushed me away.
And my eyes never suited me all that well.
I kind of always gave myself away.
Even when I knew much better.
And life gives you what you got and takes what it gives and leaves you wishing you had something more. So the things that never suited me became what I got and now I'm wishing you would kneel down at my door.
Coins
There is a part of us.Looming and hovering in the shadows of our hearts.
That provides shelter to all our horrors.
All the sickness that thrives inside us.
All our humanity resides there.
Photographable like ghosts,
But reflection-less like vampires.
Piles of rot are stinking up out chest.
The hollow cavity,
Makes metal noises,
Like the sound of poured gold coins
Ka-chinking around in your ribcage.
And the only way we show this side,
To the awareness of other human eyes.
Is to regurgitate this rotting pit of acid,
Onto their new Express sweaters.
Ant Farm
I've imagined you a thousand times.Slipping in and out of my life.
From dream to dream.
From memory to memory.
I've imagined us on bridges and river banks.
And apartments and hospitals.
Doing drugs and getting love.
Smoking cigs just you and me, talking bout important stuff.
But in the end its all you are. A figment of my imagination.
Your touch, your kiss, your voice, your lips, are not really yours at all.
And I can see you falling part in every nightmare.
Oozing out of skin.
As cockroaches drop from your eyes sockets and worms crawl out from your toes.
And suddenly you burst to a giant swarm of ants and you eat me away to my core.
Just nibbling and biting and sucking away at every inch of me there's left to chew.
Wolves
I'm sick of being "loved" and left.
"Someday my pain
Someday my pain will mark you
Harness your blame
Harness your blame, walk through"
Eww
I've been seeing everyone differently now.
I've been seeing every flaw in them.
Every dent, carved from the good inside them.
Every little nuisance and annoyance.
Every phony word.
Every time they talk my head begins to hurt.
It makes me want to vomit.
Maybe on them a little.
Like every word that is ever even spoken by them is what they think will make them cool. Like every action is how they want to act and not actually who they are. Like every time they dye their hair, or change their accent or get new friends, they're just reeking of impostor intentions.
I miss bright eyed people, with unspoiled intentions.
I miss people who see a world of hidden beauty.
I miss people who couldn't hide their true soul.
I miss people who could leave a piece of themselves inside me.
I miss people who are worth missing.
I'm sick of these phonies who are drowning in their own self pity and teenage angst.
Get In The Car
Looking back on us, I think it was inevitable that we would end up bitter and reeling from the disappointment of everything that was gold that turned gray. All the potential we had, stored up inside us waiting to be made right only wronged over and over again. Everything that made us anything was too outweighed by deceit and confrontation to ever have been something beautiful. I see that now, but she doesn't. You told me your concerned, about changing her. Making her more like you.
Well you should be.
Smiles And Smokes
Smoking butts in auto-shop.
Painting rocks on that hilltop.
Reminiscing on days when it was good.
Driving slow, drunk as hell,
But were just kids, don't know you well.
I guess a seat belt was a great idea.
And you may try and and get it up.
Smudging all of my makeup.
Trying hard just to play it cool.
Driving home, window down low.
Smoking cigs, telling me not to go.
We both know now it wasn't the alcoholic.
Painting rocks on that hilltop.
Reminiscing on days when it was good.
Driving slow, drunk as hell,
But were just kids, don't know you well.
I guess a seat belt was a great idea.
And you may try and and get it up.
Smudging all of my makeup.
Trying hard just to play it cool.
Driving home, window down low.
Smoking cigs, telling me not to go.
We both know now it wasn't the alcoholic.
Sloppy
I'm sick of walking around half dead.Like the parts of me.
The deepest crevasses of my soul are sleeping.
And all that is conscious is this hollow shell.
This shell that's made of flesh and bone and neatly packages by canvas-like skin, that's been stretches way too tight across way too large of a frame. I want to genuinely feel something. Not anger, or emptiness. I want to hug my mother and tell her I love her. And i want to make my bed just to make my father happy. I don't want to turn around one day and realize that they're gone and all this time I spent dwelling in my own self anger and teenage angst, I could have spent with them. Food shopping with my mother or letting my dad show me how to use photo shop.
I could have everything in the world and I still would have nothing without my family.
Hungry
When I hummed you my insides out.
You took my liver and my spleen and held them to your chest.
You said it was so,
"The deepest parts of me could hear your heartbeat."
And for a few moments your heart beat sounded like the ocean.
The lapping waves crashing against your chest.
And when you sang my spleen back inside of me,
Your heartbeat went in with it.
And now all I can hear are lapping waves and hermit crabs,
Working away at my brain,
Chiseling down my appetite for anything else but you.
Hungry always for your skin on mine,
Your touch on me,
Your eyes on me.
REM Sleep
Dreamcatcher,
Catch me a dream.
Throw me in the ocean,
and pull me out to see.
Run it through my brain,
And scar it on my heart.
Burn it on my mind,
So I can feel it in the dark.
Build me a temple,
Buy me a church,
Kill me a cowboy,
Make me a purse.
Create a world around me,
Glittering with gold.
All the riches in world,
That only I can behold.
Death Scream
It's coming.
Death is pacing in my head.
Back and forth at the doctors offices.
And in those hotel rooms.
And even in your arms.
Like it is becoming stronger and stronger.
Feeding on the weakness of my mind.
The hallucinations of happiness.
The satisfaction of sex.
Every filthy cigarette,
Drugging me into submission.
Filling my brain with buzzed bliss.
Numbing the world which is slowly consuming the raw flesh of every square inch of my. The bone and muscle and pulsation cartilage of this weak and vile, pathetic excuse for a free-thinking human. My ear piercings scream phony to even the night walking whores and money greedy pimps of every dirty poor city. I was given a gift, for which i have misused in every sense possible.
Sleepyhead
Your smoke travels inside you_
Slowly makes it's way down your trachea.
Creeping into your lungs.
Iron and coal lungs.
Scarred and tarred.
And you smile like everything was made to be alright.
Like you were born to maybe die.
And you forgave God a long time ago.
There's always that tinge of sadness in your skin.
And sickening times on your sleeves.
Hookup
If trying to salvage the last few stale crumbs of self integrity means submitting to the laws imposed by society on the way women should behave and what morals they should follow; Then I will not pretend that believe In these principles and these morals, these strong standing beliefs when it comes to sex and relationships, because I don't. Perhaps I have been disgusted mostly by the subject of gender labeling; "6 girls? Your the man dude"//v.s.// "6 girls? Your a slut girl"
From now on I've decided that I am unwilling to fake pretentious morals merely for the sake of my reputation. Would any man? Would any man fake not wanting to sleep with a gorgeous woman because of what his friends or others might say or think of him? No, he would flaunt it like a crude masculine pig. Why should I pretend any differently?
You Again
You always made me sick in a good way.
Like butterflies were eating away at my insides.
Like my brain was overloaded by your smile.
That phony accent and that cheap tattoo.
Smiles and smokes I called you.
Now I can feel that sickness.
Creeping up into me.
Not in a good way.
Shadow Creature
I'm awake while your asleep. I creep behind that shadow you cast on the wall beside your bed. I sneak inside her eyes while she searches every crevice of your body for some hint of warmth. I exist it that heart of yours that stalled out on you that winter right before spring. Im the black tar that clings to your lungs after every last pack of menthols that slit your lungs and bleed you dry. I'm that hideous noise your dishwasher makes. I'm that leak in your kitchen sink. I'm everywhere and nowhere, always on your mind, never on your brain. A constant memory to that day. The one where you lost me for good.
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