I've gotten used to the taste of salt between my lips
the loss of control over everything
the lack of answers and a fleeting memory
my body becomes a parallel reality
you invade me with your magnetic touch
and make me bleed with every kiss
As I twist the key into your heart shaped locket
The universe is a twisted merry-go-round
I wanted to show you all that I could do
But you would rather write poems on seashells
terraces in palaces from a past built by darkness
You drew your name on every girl's breast
And then made love to me in memory of the one
Who was always the best, undressed
I've gotten used to the sting of curses in my mouth
Of my soles falling apart, of the house I burnt down
With the soles of your soul; I try to put myself
in the shoes of a fool, but its too cruel
all the in between places, all the miserable faces
trapped behind a plastic existence still
I am the resistance.
I watch your cultivation of an empire of dreams
under smoke clouds of oblivion and screams
a hollow snow globe or a pyramid scheme
She loves to wear all black in the gothic emo scene
America is dying in the war machine
My blood was your existence, as I spread my wings
Like Icarus, and made love to a million things
But that one thing, that I was missing
I watch your cultivation of rotten dreams
And upon your gypsy dollar bills
You write their names for prescription pills.
I am your will, I am your promise
I am your golden land upon which you stand
golden, shining, dreaming earth
I am your home. I alone, your worth.
Morning Glories she had giggled and dreamed of an obscure melody as she slowly tumbled into the mirror of melancholy when the morning be...
his lips cracked, he never smiled a soft shooting star, moon divine the humming began immobile ghosts start circling the pain is breaki...
I don’t know what to do with it anymore Those little expectations you were ready for anything that might come Its m...
Gateways It's raining, the rain is breaking through sometimes directionless, how about you? daring daring the finite sha...