bloodshot eyes
crimson skies      
silent cries
pretty lies
my love,
you’re
my

tear-stained
and rose tinted
reflections of an illusion
my inadequacy shines through
that one band that
makes my palms sweat and
my heart race
till i’m not breathing
my blood has stopped running
i don’t know how to forget you
the song ends
but i still look ‘round
making sure no ones caught on
that i’m thinking of you
but they already know
i see it in their apology’s
why are they ******* sorry
for something that you did?

oh, is this another game to you?
didn’t realise my feelings can be hurt too?
never expected me to fall for you? no. you knew.
and now i don’t know what move you expect me to do.
i could say i’m not scared but that’d be lying too.
i know how this ends; a bag full of scolds and i told you so’s.
leaving only when i’ve been through all your lows.
fixed all your flaws; broken myself even more.

please tell my heart to simmer down
i can’t hear myself think
over all of this noice it’s making.
it bubbles and boils and makes my skin itch with the urge to **** it.
please take my heart away.
i can’t bear the burden of it again.
it feels so heavy, like someone buried it six feet under, but i can still feel it.
it’s like it’s calling out to me from underneath. it wants me to help it
but i can’t. i put it under there myself
and i lost the map

i’m sorry you burned. if i could i would erase it from existence.
then i remember your apology
but you’re not really sorry for burning me because you did it again
why am i surprised? you may have said “sorry” but you never said you wouldn’t repeat it. why do i try to give everyone more chances than they deserve? why am i still writing about you. get the **** out of my head like you’re the **** out of my life. i get confused. i think i’m writing about someone else but it comes back to you. i get drunk on you. the hangover is the best part. i feel sorry for myself. i tell myself it won’t happen again. i’m a laughing stock, a bird waiting to get shot. this isn’t fun anymore; i thought you’d be back by 10 but it’s been a few months and i’m nothing to you still. i made a mistake and i said sorry. you forgave me and i believed you. i didn’t say i wouldn’t do it again but i didn’t know it would be you doing it this time. i’m sorry you burned but now it’s my turn and you’re not really sorry

You do not do, you do not do
Any more, black shoe
In which I have lived like a foot
For thirty years, poor and white,
Barely daring to breathe or Achoo.

Daddy, I have had to **** you.
You died before I had time ----
Marble-heavy, a bag full of God,
Ghastly statue with one gray toe
Big as a Frisco seal

And a head in the freakish Atlantic
Where it pours bean green over blue
In the waters off the beautiful Nauset.
I used to pray to recover you.
Ach, du.

In the German tongue, in the Polish town
Scraped flat by the roller
Of wars, wars, wars.
But the name of the town is common.
My ****** friend

Says there are a dozen or two.
So I never could tell where you
Put your foot, your root,
I never could talk to you.
The tongue stuck in my jaw.

It stuck in a barb wire snare.
Ich, ich, ich, ich,
I could hardly speak.
I thought every German was you.
And the language obscene

An engine, an engine,
Chuffing me off like a Jew.
A Jew to Dachau, Auschwitz, Belsen.
I began to talk like a Jew.
I think I may well be a Jew.

The snows of the Tyrol, the clear beer of Vienna
Are not very pure or true.
With my gypsy ancestress and my weird luck
And my Taroc pack and my Taroc pack
I may be a bit of a Jew.

I have always been scared of you,
With your Luftwaffe, your gobbledygoo.
And your neat mustache
And your Aryan eye, bright blue.
Panzer-man, panzer-man, O You ----

Not God but a *******
So black no sky could squeak through.
Every woman adores a Fascist,
The boot in the face, the brute
Brute heart of a brute like you.

You stand at the blackboard, daddy,
In the picture I have of you,
A cleft in your chin instead of your foot
But no less a devil for that, no not
Any less the black man who

Bit my pretty red heart in two.
I was ten when they buried you.
At twenty I tried to die
And get back, back, back to you.
I thought even the bones would do.

But they pulled me out of the sack,
And they stuck me together with glue.
And then I knew what to do.
I made a model of you,
A man in black with a Meinkampf look

And a love of the rack and the *****.
And I said I do, I do.
So daddy, I'm finally through.
The black telephone's off at the root,
The voices just can't worm through.

If I've killed one man, I've killed two ----
The vampire who said he was you
And drank my blood for a year,
Seven years, if you want to know.
Daddy, you can lie back now.

There's a stake in your fat black heart
And the villagersnever liked you.
They are dancing and stamping on you.
They always knew it was you.
Daddy, daddy, you *******, I'm through.