November 2011
0 posts
Peel My Skin Off Dry
peel my skin off dry, so i can air these nerves right out, so i can hate my flesh, so i can hate my flesh out loud. peel my skin off dry. so i can bleed these venoms, steam these scorching, demons, to the clouds, to the mists, so i can bleed my wrists out loud. peel my skin off, peel my skin off dry. seer my fingers ends, so i can feel much less than pain. peel my fingertips, so i can touch this...
Shoot The Smiling Kid
I’ll shoot the smiling kid. Leave him to me.
I’ll gurgle his laughter, Turn it off key. And lock and load my weight off his shoulders - Blast his bashful ways to get older.
Leave him to me, I’ve got bullets to spare.
Let me provoke the joke out his throat, Stage his new stage nerves And force him to choke, Shackle the chuckle and sticky his coat.
Bullshitty you’ve seen what burgundy...
The Fall
I can watch myself like mirrored walls, Through screaming halls and buried friends, Two searing ember ends for eyes, That cry in an amber / autumn blend. That ask why they grew from fallen ‘corn, to buried spores in grounds descend. And sprouted skyward hands from branches, Mantis love like hatred born. The ‘sets drop orange shadow sides like fans of pride that slice the wind, and men...
Untitled5
we’ve bumped and bruised without soothing lumps, been once too far to feel my jumps, but weakened less than valentine months, my heart has pinched from bows.
i rose and winced at pangs that pry, not so your hands would graze my sides, but more to show i feel these pains. and pain for you inside.
we tripped and scraped our knees aside, but landed so the land would sigh, and hand us fast...
Rest in Peace, Michael
On the road to sanity I took the psychopath. I’d kill for a thrill that would bring Michael back.
—-
I made it.
2010
Treasure Chest
The gem means more when it’s under dirt. Like slumber shirt hems and numbers worth, its long.. as distances ran in tracks. Or lands I ran, and the plans I rack. Whose nack is gold in a wooden chest? Ask out to scouts who should invest… (like undercoats for a tux’s shell). I’m consumed in vacuums, it sucks as well. The diamond shape dons Super’s shirt. The mind escapes, it’s too superb.....
