the last time i let my eyes get close to you,
my head told them to stop.
my eyes can go where i cannot.
my head stays where i belong.
anarchy. anarchy.
i waited for you to take
yours away from mine.
for it to be safe to look at you
my hands are shaking-
all of this inside me.
don't you know that i can see you in the corner of my eye?
don't you know that i know you can see me?
your eyes like daggers;
you their demon.
mine like keyholes;
i'm their keeper.
letting you look inside.
but you're silent
until you're not.
why don't you start making some noise.
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Friday, April 9, 2010
moon river
finally,
you have seen
something so disgustingly beautiful
instead of something wonderfully horrible.
the marks on my wrist
the cuts on your heart
the hollow light in the hallway
cleaning up your lonely head.
at last
you would sleep better at home
without;
fingers entwined,
the way the moonlight shines,
heaven so close to harm
and i would soon have to leave;
for fear you would, too.
but
falling away in the dark -
the cold rain to rescue us both -
reckless abandonment
is so much softer when it's accidental.
finally we have some awful nice things
to think.
stay
there, just let me
filter
what's left.
i'm doing all of this
for you.
you have seen
something so disgustingly beautiful
instead of something wonderfully horrible.
the marks on my wrist
the cuts on your heart
the hollow light in the hallway
cleaning up your lonely head.
at last
you would sleep better at home
without;
fingers entwined,
the way the moonlight shines,
heaven so close to harm
and i would soon have to leave;
for fear you would, too.
but
falling away in the dark -
the cold rain to rescue us both -
reckless abandonment
is so much softer when it's accidental.
finally we have some awful nice things
to think.
stay
there, just let me
filter
what's left.
i'm doing all of this
for you.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
i wish you'd stop playing your stereo so loud, because your music sucks.
after twentyminutes of nothing;
i'm going on a trip with my sister into town soon. i'm really excited.
i'm going on a trip with my sister into town soon. i'm really excited.
Saturday, April 3, 2010
writing love on your arms, just one of your many charms
- for you, who couldn't understand.
maybe some people feel like they're supposed to be sad forever. or maybe they feel they belong there - like they have their loyalty to it.
you've tried all the others. and what let downs they are now!
sometimes it's just the way you feel. the way you want to feel. something. anything.
and that's how it makes you feel; you feel good. you feel fucking great!
eyes are attached, consumed, devoured. wondering if this is going to stop. the tiny little blade puncturing the porcelain of your skin, gliding across little blue lines. you are okay.
there's a dreamy quality to it- like you don't really believe it's happening. it couldn't have gotten this far - no, it hasn't. you're just testing it. just seeing what happens. it's just here.
but it's soothing you immediately. i think that's what keeps you going. i think that's what makes you do it.
and then you really feel it. your nerves; they're right there. it's hitting you, what you're doing. it's hitting you. you're forgetting. you're thinking... of something else. this is fantastic?!
that's why you press harder - you're memory is lighter. a little faster, to remember a little slower.
and then it's over.
watching silhouettes trailing, fleeting from your body. escaping down your hand, your fingers, your nails. each one waiting for another to bloom. for a second it looks good.
...oh my god. i'm bleeding.
but 10minutes is a long time for feeling good.
maybe some people feel like they're supposed to be sad forever. or maybe they feel they belong there - like they have their loyalty to it.
you've tried all the others. and what let downs they are now!
sometimes it's just the way you feel. the way you want to feel. something. anything.
and that's how it makes you feel; you feel good. you feel fucking great!
eyes are attached, consumed, devoured. wondering if this is going to stop. the tiny little blade puncturing the porcelain of your skin, gliding across little blue lines. you are okay.
there's a dreamy quality to it- like you don't really believe it's happening. it couldn't have gotten this far - no, it hasn't. you're just testing it. just seeing what happens. it's just here.
but it's soothing you immediately. i think that's what keeps you going. i think that's what makes you do it.
and then you really feel it. your nerves; they're right there. it's hitting you, what you're doing. it's hitting you. you're forgetting. you're thinking... of something else. this is fantastic?!
that's why you press harder - you're memory is lighter. a little faster, to remember a little slower.
and then it's over.
watching silhouettes trailing, fleeting from your body. escaping down your hand, your fingers, your nails. each one waiting for another to bloom. for a second it looks good.
...oh my god. i'm bleeding.
but 10minutes is a long time for feeling good.
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