in your voice
is like a
woke me up.
in your voice
is like a
woke me up.
Please won’t you push me for the last time
Let’s scream until there’s nothing left
So sick of playing, I don’t want to anymore!
The thought of you’s no fucking fun
You want a martyr, I’ll be one
Because enough’s enough, we’re done!
Abandoned brains dripping on the cold spiral staircase
My crumpled train station tickets wiped them all away
The nights were as sober as 5 AM Jack on the rocks
Reset reverse repose and smash a hammer on the clock
You’re like a spoke in my heart, like nails through my teeth
Let’s slow down the sound of pain, ’cause you taste so sweet
I’m like the chlorine in your skin, like the poison in your cure
Maybe I’ll inject the moonshine once again just to be sure
You’ll never see my face in the movies as you always should
But babe it’s tough to dwell on the surface of Hollywood
Endgame of a bloodless artery, and I’m the rebel subsidiary
I’m the heart attack in your nightmares until you wake me
Am I confusing? Or complex? Am I the nuclear home you wrecked?
Are you the cannonball that hurtled past and broke clean my neck?
Breaths frosting over glass like a harsh blizzard in the winter
If I’m the martyr dying on a cross, then maybe you’re the sinner
You mixed suicide in my bloody scotch and you left me to rot
If I’m jumping off the bridge, then you’re my second thoughts
You’re the puppy crush love and I’m the old dog you put down
You hanged me by my collar in the gallows with a silent frown
We were screaming at each other in the most perfect harmony
If you were crying or laughing at the end of the line, I can’t see
You dosed my soul with whiskey and you sang a metal lullaby
And when I passed out from the hate, you crept out, no goodbye
So listen, wake the fuck up! Who the hell are you to die on me?
If you’re searching for some peace eternal, then I guess I’m sorry
I wrote your name on my mutated wrists with a blunt safety pin
And the scars on my lips won’t fade away anytime soon, darling
So don’t you go away now! Who the fuck are you to fall apart on me?
The razor blades in my throat won’t be swallowed with your fake sorry
This turbulent liquid passion made us crash on the tides and capsize
But if there’s a heaven waiting baby, then it won’t have a place for your lies—!
You told me think about it, well I did
And I don’t wanna feel a thing anymore
I’m tired of begging for the things that I want
I’m over sleeping like a dog on the floor
Imagine living like a king someday
A single night without a ghost in the walls
We are the shadows screaming take us now
We’d rather die than live to rest on the ground!
And all you love,
Soul in a
And worst of all,
He lets you
The coalescing Seattle twilight was an interplaying illusion of dusk and haze, warm colours replacing the pastel skylines, only to be painted over by the deep indigo eventide. The local rustic town café was already closing up, and they barely had time to finish the last bites of their chocolate bonbons and sip the remaining drops of their hazelnut vanilla frappé, before the intermittent barista ushered them out—quite literally, with a tremulous hand and an apologetic jilted demeanour. Now they stood outside the establishment in introspective reverie, dimmed bronze sodium streetlight the only solitary light source that resiliently pierced through the caliginous melancholy.
She was a blushing rose, liquid and pale, every infinitesimal detail somehow magnified to be remarkably interesting. Fragrance of baby’s breath and frankincense, posture of a regal and sophisticated monarch, delicate face as that of an angel’s glimpse of paradise, personality of an intricate vintage lock and a million exploding suns. Her companion, admittedly, was a person of less enigma, yet was still a character of significance, an oakwood branch, roughly-hewn and intense, simple yet charismatic. That svelte and cheeky-looking fellow had untidy coffee-tint hair, a discursive ironic smirk, an insouciant slouch, and a steely glint that, more often than not, signalled trouble.
As the fog and the regent shadows further intensified, the pauses and discomfited silence between them further attenuated. Moments passed. Her candyfloss-pink sundress fluttered like a jaded butterfly as she tucked a frayed bookmark behind her seashell ear, and her taciturn companion watched her intently, like an engrossed pawnbroker. Without permission, he began to remove his worn tan overcoat and gingerly placed the article over her cool shoulders, still warm and cosy by his own body heat. Flustered by the uncalled attention, she turned away to brush a stray raven hair back into her gossamer tufted bun, and lost grip of her book of poems, fragile pages yellowed and dogeared with age. Sylvia Plath’s ancient anthology dropped with a soft thump right side up, opening uncannily on the centre page containing Mad Girl’s Love Song, and both bent down and fumbled clumsily to pick it up in haste.
Fingers tangled. Glances exchanged. Blue eyes collided with green. Hands clenched. Throats choked. Hearts skipped. Breaths hitched. Souls shattered. Their blueberry-strawberry swirl ice cream melted absently like calligraphy on the pavement. The book now lay abandoned and forgotten, its unspoken poetry dancing alongside the breeze. No words were whispered. None were necessary. Overhead, the last of the brimstone shades faded away, and incandescent stars splashed the darkness of the falling sky. Below, firework eyes showered sparks, and skins intertwined. Witnessing it all, hiding behind the wisps of pewter clouds and overlooking the nocturnal planet, the glowing moon quaintly smiled.
all over my heart.
Carry on and write a song that says it all
And shows it off before you die
Take a little breath before you catch an
Early death, there is so much sky…
in the rain
where i could stay
my heartbeat, it
slows to a lull
fingers drawn to
as i feel the
of heavenly tears
my peaceful visage
kissing my skin
lost in a cool
a blank slate
of pondering inside
my tranquil mind,
and hot coffee
and a tea cosy is
waiting for me home
at that moment,
i was already there.
as the rain
to a languid cease,
i gaze at the
and bade the
tinged with a sense
for with my
mine empty soul
has never been
Hey, you’re fine
I wanna listen to the radio
Driving down Calexico highway
And now I know the signs for sure…
on the sunny sky
as the heat
with a sigh
pale cool blue
its diadem hues
and sticky sweat
as sweet sodas
right on cue
to help endure
the highest noons
the weather was
as tepid as
we were told
i still wonder
why i feel so cold.
Oh, cross my heart and hope to die
And for you I’ll steal the sunset sky
I wondered why on skipping stones
I’d love to unravel your corset bones
Blueberries’ kisses, as blue as the sea
So sing acoustics music softer for me
We’ll end the night with cookie cakes
And a strawberry daiquiri by the lake.