Tag Archives: abandonment

Mr. Moneybags Will Have His Fickle Comeuppance in Los Angeles

It’s so relieving
To know that you’re leaving
As soon as you get paid
It’s so relaxing
To hear that you’re asking
Wherever you get your way
It’s so soothing
To know that you’ll sue me
This is starting to sound the same…

~*~

You were smoking bones

As if they were cigarettes

Miss the tale called home

Affiliated with a sickness

That ate through cuckolds

Made fools out of cocottes

Making poker dealers fold

And hat in hands to fought

Where were you when she

Died last night? Asking for

Extra straws from the sea

To suck up its open floors

.

Ambitious was your hobby

Buying fortune from clowns

Earning leprechaun money

Wearing a replicated frown

With apparels of gold velvet

Canes of candy in platinum

Fevers of e.coli and scarlet

Eye contacts tinted iridium

Where were you when she

Died last night? A roosting,

O’er open fireplaces calmly

Whilst she was screaming

.

For help, with blood flumes

Cascading down her nicest

Sunday church dress, lunes

Devouring into their behests

Waiting for your latest calls

When broken windowpanes

And her tears started to fall

Pilferers feast, no shame in

It; where were you when she

Died last night? In bed, with

A hired trophy wife, unguilty

Living a millionaire’s dream

.

Now you’re a failing destitute

Case, has-been in showbiz on

Industry, hailed dropout brute

With a buck to his appellation

Living in a cardboard box flat

Selling signatures no one will

Take off your hands, you’re but

An extra in life’s silent film reel

So, just where were you when she

Died last night? Wishing that you’re

Dead, junkie OD’d, madness addicting

Suffer as she sits in Heaven laughing.

~*~

She’ll come back as fire
To burn all the liars
And leave a blanket of ash on the ground
I miss the comfort in being sad…

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The Best Kind Of Mess

Talk to me now while I’m sober
The way that you look
I know it’s almost over
The fighting has stopped
But I’m still so lost
Will you bring me in…

~*~

It’s funny, isn’t it?

Seeing your best friend transform into a snivelling mess

Well go ahead—laugh! It’s a total riot when she confesses

That her failing life is fractured into tiny irreparable pieces

The smarmy sceptics jeer, the constructive critics excoriate

She’s an aperture starling, media darling everyone loves to hate

.

It’s funny, isn’t it?

Seeing your best friend falling apart into fragments very fast

Well go ahead—watch! It’s a riveting soap opera, if you must

When she gets caught up in the viscid webs of predatorial lust

This is her idiosyncratic truman show delusion, she’s so paranoid

She’s spinning circles in the rusty train tracks you laid and avoid

.

It’s funny, isn’t it?

Seeing your best friend holding on, hanging by a hairline thread

Well go ahead—contribute! Let your personal two cents be said

Tell her that she’s simply beautiful when she’s just left for dead

She’s spiralling into decadence deep and morbid madness divine

Each libel released a sharp paralysing injection in her numb spine

.

It’s funny, isn’t it?

Seeing your best friend turn into a news story, a penny paid scandal

Well go ahead—ignore! But follow her face on every tabloid rehearsal

She dégringolades further into abyssal chasms of odious withdrawals

She’s sunken, ragged, washed out, enervated, worn out, she’s all alone

Why the hell’s that spindly girl still breathing? She’s a walking skeleton!

.

It’s funny, isn’t it?

Seeing your best friend’s physique metamorphose into the best kind of mess

Well go ahead—feel sorry now! When it’s all too late to backtrack and reassess

A friend…why do you still even call her that? Pity, you’re so thoroughly shameless

Get her away from the cameras and glamour, away from your cruel bloodied hands

You’ve all throttled, bruised, strangled her noose, you killed her, don’t you understand?

She’s taken the toll now, she’s taken the fall somehow, the least you can do is bury her splintered bones

Let your best friend taste a sliver of peace once more as Death arrives to take her lacerated soul home.

~*~

I’m another lush
I’m another liar
How will I stop
When will I start learning…

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Lightheaded

A melancholic tale, a poignant dance of two blossoming lovers

You twirled me as I giggled heartily, over and over and over

But as I dizzied from it quite badly, and I needed a tighter hold

You simply stepped away from me, and let me take the hard fall.

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