Your eyes glaze over, losing their spark
And your sight's flown miles away
In a place that's worse than the world out here
Where hearts are blackened by hate.
Your eyes brim over, tears leave scars
And your hues, they turn to grey
For wrists turn red and lips turn blue
You're wilting by night, to blossom by day
I think the problem I've come to find is that everything makes me sad.
Even the things that make me happy, find a way to make me sad.
I find that love is like a vase of flowers.
There's something special, and antique, about receiving flowers from someone.
And you pick out the most beautiful vase you can scrounge up from the cupboards,
dust it off, and place that bouquet tall and proud in that intricate holder.
And each day, you look at it and it is still so beautiful.
But flowers like that, come with consequences.
When the ends get cut just so you can ogle at the beauty,
And one day, you will stumble upon those flowers, weeks later,
to find them completely forgotten about and wilted in a corner.
So, love is like flowers.
A beautiful gift with an expiration date.
Inside my bones
are mangled flowers,
you left on my door step,
At random times they will
sprout inside of me but, they
Sometimes the tides get heavy but the sea
always finds a calm.
I like to stand near the calm sea.
I hold the dead flowers.
I know you will never return.
patience is a frail virtue
love, a needy obligation
compassion is the only one we can’t fake
you’ve made this a task for yourself
and you lack the passion to carry it through
i want to hate you
i want so badly to mesh you with my fears
to contemplate life or death
with thoughts of you near
but i am numb
and you are long gone.
my thoughts are bitter
you would never understand
this mind that races
no use chasing it
for its too far ahead now
where sea and sky meet
the circular world revolves
i truly love it
madness is coming
like a winter that will kill
no flowers survive
her love was poison
venomous lips that decieved
i was obsessed then
we fucked constantly
her pussy opened like a rose
i ate contently
her thighs were perfect
they led to pedicured feet
i sucked every toe
like a piglet feeds
i feasted off her body
it was truly good
she nourished my soul
wild curly haired sex vixen
you tasted insane
you were the flower
on the end of my hard stem
i picked your petals
then watched you slowly repose
I can feel my hopelessness in my legs
They’re all sort of settled, sinking into the bed like logs into soft loam
burrowed into by all manner of insects,
hardening their tongues into little tubes and sucking out my flesh with a mighty slurp.
I have found that I exist in a perpetual sigh
apart from every once in a while, when I pause to eat and sleep and watch a car go by with one headlight out at 12:53 in the morning.
Well, what shall we do with a drunken sailor?
I whisper some heathen's prayer that this gross longing originates somewhere outside of myself. I have to find a wall far away and break it down. I don’t want to get trapped under my own rubble anymore. Better to be drowned than crushed.