wash down that lust of yours with porn.
dig a hole in your heart start with where it was torn.
your lungs dont fill up with air because the smokes in the way.
drunk through the night and high through day.
cut up your arms make it feel better now.
cheat on your girlfriend and love her somehow.
screw over love like it screwed over you.
do everything they told you not to do.
throw away dreams like an old dirty rag.
take a sip take a shot take a hit take a drag.
you know while youre at it take me along too.
keep killing yourself and youll feel better soon.
Jesse T. Lieurance, 2011
I drag a stick in the sand. Not to find my way back,
because I won't be down this path again.
No, you see, this path goes through torment and trial
that will kill you with your own broken hands.
I drag a stick in the sand for the people behind me,
the ones that are following my lead.
For I see that they're hurt, and they're lost, and they search
for a way out, just like me.
I drag a stick in the sand so they can find their way out,
because I know that that's where this track will go.
Yes, I see that I'm lost and and I can't find my way,
but I know that I'll soon make it home.
I drag a stick in the sand as a sign of lost hope
that I wound up finding again.
For if you follow this path that the stick has carved out
you will see that the torture does end.
I drag a stick in the sand in case you follow my path;
in case you follow and start to give up.
For I fell down before, but if you just look ahead,
the track still goes on, which means I stood up.
I drag a stick in the sand so you know you're not alone;
so you know that there is a way through.
I drag it along so you can see that you're loved
and that I held to that stick just for you.
I drag a stick in the sand for you.
Burn, burn away my love;
throw it out to the waves.
For you have longed to take my hand
in the name of hate.
Now try to break me off,
but I'm not going home.
Just leave me here to rot in fear,
because I'm fine all alone.
You see, I'm used to this; I've seen all of this before.
It's really nothing new.
I'll just tie my hands to a decaying post,
because I can't tie myself down to you.
Now I'm tied to the mast of some ship that I don't know,
and it's carrying me out to sea.
I can feel the waves crashing, and I'm starting to feel sick,
because out on this tide, it's just me.
I'm left stranded out here with regret at my side,
so I guess I'm not truly alone.
No, there's fear to my left, and pain to my right
that I really would just get up and go.
But they won't.
But I don't want them.
Jesse T. Lieurance, 2011
These scars no longer feel the pain
These scars no longer hold empty shame
These scars no longer carry my name
For I am not the one that shall take all of this blame
These scars and I are no longer the same
I've been tearing myself apart in vain
But these scars no longer feel the pain
Jesse T. Lieurance, 2011
If I could make time rewind,
I would go to the past in a flash,
and be at the right place and time.
If I could make time go back,
in a flash, I would be in the past,
and save you from these memories you have.
I cannot save you now,
but I know you will get out somehow.
I know that you will make it out.
Just hold my hand,
I will pull you through this storm.
You might get tattered and torn,
but you'll make it out alive.
I'll hold you in my arms.
I'll take away all of the harms
that taunt you,
and haunt you,
and make you feel this pain inside.
I'll be standing here with arms open wide.
I will wipe away the tears that fall from your eyes
as you wipe away the ones that fall from mine.
Forever and ever,
we will always be in love and be together.
Not even death can separate us.
It's our love that binds and makes us
who we are and who we're meant to be.
I'll hold onto you, and you'll hold onto me.
We are dead.
We are broken.
We cannot hear the words that are spoken,
not even the ones that are screamed.
Can we ever be redeemed?
We won't be healed,
because we cannot feel,
because the darkness is so bright
that we cannot see the light.
We are damned, we'll always be -
unless we stand, we won't be free.
Who else will rise and follow me?
Let's be who we were meant to be!
Let's take a shot into the dark.
Make this your last breathless remark
as a dead man lost at sea.
I want to taste grace and mercy.
I want to feel true love.
I want to live my life above
the influence that is around,
but my voice cannot make a sound,
because I'm surrounded by a cloud
of silence that is so loud
that I cannot hear your voice.
So this is my first living choice:
To keep your light inside of my vision,
and it's my second living decision
to stand up to my feet.
Will you dead men rise with me?
On the day of Calvary,
he just stood there
as the beat him, bruised him
and ripped out his hair.
Every time they whipped him,
His screams were all you heard.
The people wouldn't stop the soldiers.
They wouldn't say a word.
Instead they cheered,
"Put him on the cross!"
The Roman soldiers did,
for good reputation would not be their loss.
They hung Him on the cross
with a nail in each hand,
and one nail through his feet,
so it looked like he could stand.
They raised Him up,
and as He took one last look,
He cried, "It is finished,"
and died hanging by a crook.