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| Thoughts of you cause me to stumble
I fall through words
There is no haven
I can speak my mind
But it doesn’t reflect
My most dangerous weakness
My hidden need
These dreams grow darker every night
I reach my hand out
Expecting punishment before acceptance
I understand violence over kindness
My reasoning being my own experience
With humans
Those fickle creatures prefer to lash out
They beat the aggression into me
Til all I could taste was cruelty
All I could spit was anger
You watch me and then change the channel
What are you in the mood for?
Comedy reality drama
I got jokes
my perspectives
my life
Then go to commercial
See the difference?
Cant take your eyes off me
For the moment
Im my own one woman act
Did you get the punchline
Was it too much truth for you
No one fed me these lines
Don’t worry
Theres plenty of left to chose from
You made me a dark comedy
Watch while I hang myself on broken promises
And that’s your cue to laugh
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| The lightning was there. The power, the raw violence. Don’t you ever look at yourself and wonder whats missing? The problem with positive people is that they believe perfection is possible. Its an idealism that never ends well. Happy endings are for children. I don’t have the answers, either do you. The difference between us is, I never claimed to. Funny thing about people, they always take more from you than you can afford to give. The words you whisper arent comforting. Secrets and lies. That’s what we’re all about now. The older you get the more you have to hide. Give me the things about you that you are afraid of, the dirt, the mistakes, the defilements. I never wanted your goodness, it’s a sad excuse for living. Nobody cares about your happiness. Nobody wants to hear that story. People don’t love you for your successes, they like you better when your cracks show, when they see something they can take apart. It makes them feel better about themselves. Like the scent of blood in the water. They would rather see you broken. They prefer weakness to strength. your failings make you human enough to be pitied, ready to be consoled, saved. They will choke you with their offer of deliverance. Don’t ask. Every helping hand has a smug smile attached. I don’t know about you, but sympathy leaves a bad taste in my mouth. any misguided kindness you plan to vocalize is wasted on me. | | |
| I miss you. I woke up this morning in a cold bed. The darkness has me. It has found its way into my soul. I do this to myself. I hurt. I cry. I want your mouth your arms your warmth. I wander aimlessly through the days. I still want you, a better you. A you who wont desert me. Im sure you wont have trouble replacing me. The horrible truth is they were just waiting. Like hyenas. At the first scent of blood they’ll take you. I just hope my memory is hard to live up to. We weren’t always terrible people. Just insecure. Just selfish. And that has undone us. I look for you. Everyday. I wait. I know its hopeless, but then my life without you is. You weren’t perfect, not by a long shot. But the lightning was there. The raw desire never waned. I don’t know what to do with myself. I take each day as another triumph, to survive without you. And its taken all my strength. | | |
| this has been adequately awkward. to look at someone without seeing them. to be watched without knowing it. i like to look the other way. i like to pretend that im fine. i like to disregard everything important. i like to lie. im bad news. just like the regrets you have yet to make. if i had a nickel for every sin… call me what you like, ive been called worse. its the things were not allowed to do, that make them so damn appealing. one of these days, im going to do… well… unmentionable things. its societys expectations, morals that keep you on track, keeps you on the right side of life. when that chews through your skin and spits you out, your loyalty tends to wander. id rather collect hostages, devour souls and write my name all over the carcasses. step up. im now accepting applications. | | |
| so i guess its the violence i miss. the raw strength. the physical struggle. i enjoy a fight. it makes things more interesting. like they say "theres a thin line between love and hate" i found out the truth in that. the problem with fine lines is when theyre crossed you cant really say whos fault it is. i look at you as only another way to torment myself. just a bad reminder of a life i used to belong to. you insult me now and it doesnt really hit the mark. i said i hate you and i meant it, at the time. everything is easier if youre angry. im sure you think im the worst person possible. so im a liar. its true. but youve shown your borderline stalker side and it isnt pretty. paranoia isnt attractive. and the most we ever had in common is our affection for alcohol and rough sex. it was bound to deteriorate eventually. i find myself at a crossroads now. the last time someone broke my heart so blatantly i got over it by sleeping with strangers til i couldnt feel anything anymore. it was nice. not giving a fuck about anyone. but i dont think it will work this time. im not sure what i want anymore. not sure if i want to give in to baser instincts. it should trouble me that im always drunk before ten, but it doesnt. nothing about me really shocks me anymore. i guess i should feel more guilty, more inclined to do whats right, or what everybody else would call right. i think the problem is my soul is tired. i think its given up on me. like sometimes i get the feeling that something is wrong with me but i dont know what it is. i guess that should bother me. but it doesnt. its just the way the world works. you never get revenge for anything, the horrid things that happen to you just sink into the skin and become a part of you. you cant ever wash them out. | | |
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