Vee Symphony #02/#10/#83

No, no more eyes to see the sun
You slide into bed while I get drunk
Slow conversations with a gun
Mean more than I’ve ever said
To anyone, anyone…

~*~

Breath in hyperventilation

Force control of emotions

I grasp at straws but I fail

With your passionate gale

Smirk that concludes hell

Deepen like wishing wells

The ghost of a former cry

Left before the altar to die

Sound of acoustic heaven

The chambers are all even

In the lone you charm past

Cremating a flatline to last

What is it with your blood?

You are a contagious ache

Gasolines burning sunsets

My butterfly heart in stakes

A detention, soft yet risqué

All rescinded as you played

If victory, it was the sleight

You, Vincent’s starry night

Tear me apart, a whirlpool

On your slow drain words

I will find home by myself

Let me stumble by a kerb

A million ways to kill stars

And thousand ways to die

Three minutes is all it took

A split second before I cry

Autumn skies are too late

Their songs tasted of pain

But it’s always your ending

Going straight for the veins.

~*~

So keep in happiness
And torture me while I
Tell you ″Let’s go in style″
A million hooks around
A million ways to die
Darling let’s go outside
It will be alright…

~*~

(Footnote: Happy 100th post of the month, I guess. This is certainly a first, so of course I had to post something that I will surely cringe at in the near future to mark such a milestone. And I can’t actually tell if this is a cause for extraordinary celebration or extreme concern because I. Fucking. Write. Too. Damn. Much. I just can’t stop, it’s almost insanity divided by zero. Let’s be honest, this is a problem I may have to talk to someone professional with. But hell, what am I saying, no one will read this anyways. Stop talking to yourself, me. This is getting awkward. It’s 5 AM. I have class tomorrow. Why am I doing this? So yeah. I’m gonna regret this. Here’s to a hundred shitty write-ups in less than a month. And more pretty much soon. Yaaaay…??? *pops weak confetti like a sad loser in a party that no one showed up at and his mother makes a fake letter from the postmaster general…oh wait, that’s not my story*)

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