closer to closure

Consider this, consider this
The hint of the century
Consider this the slip
That brought me to my knees, failed
What if all these fantasies come
Flailing around, now I’ve said too much…

~*~

fucking upset.

why is that so?

is it thinking about

the deliberate act

of running steel beyond

your muscle enough

to hit bone, or is it

the happy thought that your

friends won’t give a

fuck about you anymore?

self-pitying act, you

find yourself repulsive

and reel back more as you

find yourself glorifying

the tasteless apathy

.

won’t be missed.

a face like wiped fog

on the windowpane

awkward jokes that never

hit humour quite right

undecoded personality

no one will want to

put up with anymore

won’t be missed?

tears might fall at a

funeral, but it will quickly

wash off, along with you

and the way you laugh

and your paper body

won’t. be. missed.

.

and still, no one.

but why do you even

pretend to be surprised?

the curiosity of their

imminent reactions

burns a giant hole

in your dysfunctional

brain and makes you

grimace, deceptive smile

a burning impulse to

get it over with and find out

are you fucking upset

that you know no one will

give a fuck, or because

you already saw it coming?

~*~

That’s me in the corner
That’s me in the spotlight
Losing my religion
Trying to keep up with you
And I don’t know if I can do it
Oh no, I’ve said too much
I haven’t said enough…

Insides

Keep the taste of suicide

Away from your filthy tongue

And wash it down with blowflies

Dancing by a loaded gun

‘Cause no one will ever save you

Alone by the edge of your seat

So just peel the lies out of your skin

And don’t let your brain bleed.

When the Rebel Fucks the Anarchy

My alligator blood is starting to show
I know that you know that, I know that you know
Can’t call a bluff with a dead man’s hands
Put a gun to my head and, paint the walls with my brains
Put a gun to my head and, paint the walls!

~*~

I want to set beautiful, dangerous, cataclysmic fires

And fuck the walls up with profanities and paint

I want to stab the living shit out of someone

To control, devastate, and cause trigger-happy taint

I want to do drugs, get hammered, and get busy

With sordid bedroom activities and a paid-for rancid honey

I want to get inked all over my ugly mess of a face

And pierce a thousand rusty needles at every blank place

I want to incite vengeance towards my sorry enemies

Start a fight and start a riot, bad enough to provoke armies

I want this screwed system to get fucked and change

To use lethal weapons freely, of guns and hand grenades

I want to just do whatever the fuck I want to do

Without getting screamed or bitched at, boo-fucking-hoo

I want to be myself, and to crush this cookie cutter mentality

To not give a damn if they think I’m just so bat-shit crazy

I want to be unrestrained, from society’s choking grasp released

To serve my unfair fate and for once, do myself some justice

I want to lose all my control just so I could take it back

For the humanity and the decency and the morality that I lack

I want to be self-destructive and be fueled by nothing but pure hate

And take some goddamn bastards down with me as I detonate

Life fucking hates me anyway, I just want to cause chaos and anarchy

What have I got to lose? I’m just fulfilling everyone’s easy stereotype of me.

~*~

Cut me up and wear my skin
Show me how to live
Tear me down, clean me up
Now spill my fucking guts
Just help me find a way!

impulsive stars

if you think

there’s a chance

to redeem your virtues

at the cobalt stage

hold your tongue

and cross your fingers

for everything’s just

about to change

and if the blistered stars

align like renegade

orbits waiting to

fall in a reverse line

save your breath

this isn’t over

and let the impulses

lace your spine.

4 a.m. depression and jealous pasts dripping off the ceiling

thrumming

like fucking echoes

of a firefly miracle

in my coronary doldrum

beating, b-r-o-k-e-n

tongue hanging off

like the way the stars

hold on for gravity but

fall against pierced glass

of darkness anyways

i’m relapsing, r e  c   e    d     i      n        g

the past is killing me again

i say i’m alright

but shit, what if i lied

to myself as well?

the cringes that burrowed

their way into my gelid skin

and gutted my stomach

until i end up heaving in

blood and bile and scissor blades

and choking on perfume

as sweet as promises undone…

fuck you. fuck YOU

please leave me alone, walk

away from my nightmares and

leave my sanity on the doormat

i don’t want to taste your pain

and leave drunk calls on

your answering machine again.

please stop me from you

everything is hurting like hell

on a four a.m. depression

and i’m just trying to fucking

take back sunday and my sleep

from you, so spare me the

profanities and give it back

please, won’t you?