Amerrriiicaaann


"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.