Can't make it come out in the right color.
I
Me.
I'm sick of writing about me.
Let's write about you for once.
What's new in YOUR life.
What's interesting in YOUR trashcan.
What's left over in your condom?
How will you condemn me?
Clench your ass and keep your eyes forward.
The donkey punch is coming.
When you wake up and realise
this might just be it.
There might be no heaven.
There might be no kings.
There might be no soulmates.
And the thing that keeps you together
is the MIGHT in those sentences.
And it makes me dance.
Like emperors with pan pipes.
It's what makes me pull teeth.
-=No=- Novacaine. No Love. Nothing. No more.
And I'm just a voice on the edge of the receiver.
A loon's call in a damp bog of your fears.
There's the occasional bogey, the occasional crocodile, and rejection.
But it's a beautiful place here actually.
I could make it for you.
The stars, the ankle deep marsh, the azure blue sky, cold like a perfect silent winter.
Reeds whispering in the wind, calling you to walk further into the forgiving muck.
I used to be...
Now I'm not sure anymore.
Just a pebble ripping through the film
waving goodbye to my center
billowing and dancing in an ever dissapearing orbit.
I can fix the goddess under the crescent moon.
The red drops falling from her blind crystalline eyes.
It all just makes me feel so flat.
Like my hands.
Flat against her face. Her broken sensibility, her reaped innocence. The remnants of her oncebutnowgone form. She falls rigid in my arms
knee deep in the muck.
Can't you just hit the switch
turn on the lights
make the dark things leave.
There's nothing here for me.
Dance quietly in the midnight summer. Lit by perfect winter.
Punctuated by a broken heart, the epicenter of yet another meltdown.
Thermonuclear.
Or rather nervous.
Very much
not
here
together
there
or for that
matter
not
altogether.
But what's new with you
the world is ending.
and I am the torch that fell on the kerosene.
You were there to catch it.
But you would have rather watched it fall.
Ruination through absolution.
Strike that, reverse it.
Fall.
Flicker.
Hope.
Burn.
Laugh.
And die.
My world is burning.
And you're right there with me.
Offering divine peace.
Offering love from a particle board cross.
A tin savior... for the price of one shilling.
I choke on the cracker.
A sign from your god.
That I was not to be saved.
He smiles.
As the knife stops in my cold, beating heart.
I can start fires.
I can take prometheus' gift and use it for something beautiful.
Watch it burn.
Whipe the ash from your eyes.
And just keep taking.
Keep me
Take me
Lose me in your big dark empty.
Lose me with my arms sawed off, my eyes bound, my legs drawn
a crust of moldy bread one inch from my nose on the ground.
Devour me in a world that forgot me.
Never bothered to meet me.
Never wanted to give me
the chance.
And I dare to be the chaos!
And I dare to be the fire.
I dare to be the warped sense of justice.
The warped core of an empty shell called there.
A dream called life.
Blown out, exposed. Chipped.
Gnawed picked at to infection.
I am
I was
I will
and then
