(no subject)
Hey guys. Just posting some of my newer work. It's not my best but you know I like to share. The titles aren't exactly incredible but they mean a lot to me.
Sleepless
It's 5:00. Do you know where you kids are? This is just a dream that you'll fade in and out of like unexpected illness. Put another rock on the pile and you've got your stepping stone to stardom. Like love in a bonfire, like I even cared. But I do and I can't apologize. Did you ever think it might just be a mistake? That you're not the soldier you try to be? Take off the scarred armor, your crooked smile. You're only a pawn, just so you know. Throw on. Take off and diminish your anxiety. This is just another line in your life anthem. This is just another lie. It's 6:00. Do you know where your dreams went?
Heart Today, Gone Tomorrow
Terminal illness in the ER. [scalpel] My name is engraved in your skin but it doesn't seem to matter much to you. Just another notch dug in your post, so easy to cover. [gauze] I'm barely holding on to the handrails and you're smoothing my chest for another shock. [clear] Was that an apology, because it felt like a hand to the face. All I asked was to hold it… and I guess that's not saying much for praying, because you still don't belong to me. Maybe we should end this all right now, you could go back to living such a "high life" and I'll keep down with the dogs like a fucking slum-crawling mastermind. [call it] All I have left is a pen and 200 paragraphs of grief, which could serve better purpose in a grammar bee than flying from the mouth of this pauper in disguise. Paragraph, I hate you, period. [Miss, I'm sorry to tell you…]
Face, Pt. 1
What was I thinking? To think I could base a relationship on a single drunken rendezvous... how could I be so stupid? Anyway, I'm sorry for caring, and wiping out every ounce of my own dignity to please you. You are now the end of my world, a leech on my skin, slowly taking away. And now I'm being persecuted, but could someone tell me what crime I committed? I swear to God I'm innocent, you fucking useless jury. I'm adding the simple words back to my vocabulary... fuck, hate, pain, betrayal, honesty. I hope you can find the one that doesn't belong, even though we all know you're at a loss for words at this point. How dare you inspire me? I already told you I was finished. But as of now my fingers are doing all the talking. Maybe I just never knew what to say in the first place, or I could have just said one thing too many times. I'll give you a hint: it starts with p and ends in erfect. I slam my hand into the earth. Let me know when you're done destroying me and I'll let you know when I've stopped loving you.
Face, Pt. 2
The polished doors make me so excited. Taken by a compromise; to step right through, or have my head ripped off by so many others. Try and tell me what makes me happy. What am I supposed to say? What can I possibly be? I'll burn with everything else if it keeps you secure. If it makes you happy, I'll wither like every promise that crawled through your pursed lips to slap me in the face. Lying is a tragedy created by man that can only lead to devastation. I hope you heed the words I speak when you're lying on your back, staring at the stars and trying to figure out what happens next. Take it from the wise man... sometimes pain is inevitable, you gotta go with the flow to do what's right. You were right there. Six seconds from my fingertips, overflowing with beauty, jealousy and a word that with its four letters could take out my eyes and use them in ways not deemed appropriate. Today I saw a shooting star. Today I smelled waste. Today was a binge. I hope everything is hitting you right now, the way you deserve to be hit, not by me but by everything you said that you wish you could take back. Maybe one day you'll realize that I'm not so easy, that giving dreams and trying to take them back is a privilege you will never receive. Do you know what I'm thinking? What are you thinking? Are you thinking about me? Are you thinking about what I'm saying? Are you thinking that you could have done this different? Are you thinking about how I wish you had? ...are you thinking? I doubt it. Say it like you mean it.
And an old one just for the fuck of it.
The Core Of Fluctuation
A day away. A memorandum of fringe and skepticism. Hopeless meanderings of what might have been. A Saturday lost and a bridge torn down. We weren't the best, but we looked so perfect. I'd give my life just to say I love you. Since that last remark my eyes haven't stopped bleeding and the sky looks a tinge greyer. Severed fields of observation, a good view gone to waste. I'll need it everyday, an arm and a leg just for that taste.
I messed this up and I'm so sorry.
Figures of lace and metal sewn together with barbed-wire inspiration. Silence has rung outward in the air. Take a listen for bad grammar, a word spoken is one better understood. I've made a habit of falling off, your face as the cliff and a ringlet of your hair as the branch I held onto. Can I break the thought process with one touch? Stay tuned, brawls around here usually last a while. Proverbs of conception and new ideas for names. Let's make this pity party last, my love.
Sleepless
It's 5:00. Do you know where you kids are? This is just a dream that you'll fade in and out of like unexpected illness. Put another rock on the pile and you've got your stepping stone to stardom. Like love in a bonfire, like I even cared. But I do and I can't apologize. Did you ever think it might just be a mistake? That you're not the soldier you try to be? Take off the scarred armor, your crooked smile. You're only a pawn, just so you know. Throw on. Take off and diminish your anxiety. This is just another line in your life anthem. This is just another lie. It's 6:00. Do you know where your dreams went?
Heart Today, Gone Tomorrow
Terminal illness in the ER. [scalpel] My name is engraved in your skin but it doesn't seem to matter much to you. Just another notch dug in your post, so easy to cover. [gauze] I'm barely holding on to the handrails and you're smoothing my chest for another shock. [clear] Was that an apology, because it felt like a hand to the face. All I asked was to hold it… and I guess that's not saying much for praying, because you still don't belong to me. Maybe we should end this all right now, you could go back to living such a "high life" and I'll keep down with the dogs like a fucking slum-crawling mastermind. [call it] All I have left is a pen and 200 paragraphs of grief, which could serve better purpose in a grammar bee than flying from the mouth of this pauper in disguise. Paragraph, I hate you, period. [Miss, I'm sorry to tell you…]
Face, Pt. 1
What was I thinking? To think I could base a relationship on a single drunken rendezvous... how could I be so stupid? Anyway, I'm sorry for caring, and wiping out every ounce of my own dignity to please you. You are now the end of my world, a leech on my skin, slowly taking away. And now I'm being persecuted, but could someone tell me what crime I committed? I swear to God I'm innocent, you fucking useless jury. I'm adding the simple words back to my vocabulary... fuck, hate, pain, betrayal, honesty. I hope you can find the one that doesn't belong, even though we all know you're at a loss for words at this point. How dare you inspire me? I already told you I was finished. But as of now my fingers are doing all the talking. Maybe I just never knew what to say in the first place, or I could have just said one thing too many times. I'll give you a hint: it starts with p and ends in erfect. I slam my hand into the earth. Let me know when you're done destroying me and I'll let you know when I've stopped loving you.
Face, Pt. 2
The polished doors make me so excited. Taken by a compromise; to step right through, or have my head ripped off by so many others. Try and tell me what makes me happy. What am I supposed to say? What can I possibly be? I'll burn with everything else if it keeps you secure. If it makes you happy, I'll wither like every promise that crawled through your pursed lips to slap me in the face. Lying is a tragedy created by man that can only lead to devastation. I hope you heed the words I speak when you're lying on your back, staring at the stars and trying to figure out what happens next. Take it from the wise man... sometimes pain is inevitable, you gotta go with the flow to do what's right. You were right there. Six seconds from my fingertips, overflowing with beauty, jealousy and a word that with its four letters could take out my eyes and use them in ways not deemed appropriate. Today I saw a shooting star. Today I smelled waste. Today was a binge. I hope everything is hitting you right now, the way you deserve to be hit, not by me but by everything you said that you wish you could take back. Maybe one day you'll realize that I'm not so easy, that giving dreams and trying to take them back is a privilege you will never receive. Do you know what I'm thinking? What are you thinking? Are you thinking about me? Are you thinking about what I'm saying? Are you thinking that you could have done this different? Are you thinking about how I wish you had? ...are you thinking? I doubt it. Say it like you mean it.
And an old one just for the fuck of it.
The Core Of Fluctuation
A day away. A memorandum of fringe and skepticism. Hopeless meanderings of what might have been. A Saturday lost and a bridge torn down. We weren't the best, but we looked so perfect. I'd give my life just to say I love you. Since that last remark my eyes haven't stopped bleeding and the sky looks a tinge greyer. Severed fields of observation, a good view gone to waste. I'll need it everyday, an arm and a leg just for that taste.
I messed this up and I'm so sorry.
Figures of lace and metal sewn together with barbed-wire inspiration. Silence has rung outward in the air. Take a listen for bad grammar, a word spoken is one better understood. I've made a habit of falling off, your face as the cliff and a ringlet of your hair as the branch I held onto. Can I break the thought process with one touch? Stay tuned, brawls around here usually last a while. Proverbs of conception and new ideas for names. Let's make this pity party last, my love.