A cough from the back seat,
As the passenger and I meet.
Hello, Sir. Where may I take you today?
To your deepest, darkest place.
But sir that is where I do not tread,
For now I am your thoughts, you have to deal with the mess.
But for what mess have I made?
The mess of not letting me stay.
But that I see no wrong, you are where your presence doesn't belong.
Oh but I am you see, I am the darkness that lurks inside thee,
I am the blood that runs through your veins,
I am the darkness that keeps you awake;
The fear of seeing my shadow,
Makes you tremble with fear but please listen here.
What you see as wrong, I don’t.
I do not devote, instead I allow you to see a new hope.
But what hope may that be, I have everything a man could need.
But driver you don’t,
Look at the knife as the blood runs down from her throat.
Ask yourself who is in the seat?
Is it me or you, because you and I aren't so different, you see?
After all, I am as much a part of you as you are me.
But this monster what have I become,
You made me like this you filthy ****!
Excuse me driver as I take the wheel,
I was just your passenger but your life was a steal.
A steal what do you mean? I still sit here,
My life a breeze?
A breeze of false hope is what you cause,
But now it is time to make a thunder storm.
I am no longer your passenger,
Now I have the wheel, me and you,
Are going to give others quite the thrill.
I will not do such things.
You cannot make me!
It wasn't me that made you this way,
It was the others who desecrated your peaceful place.
A peaceful place I did not have,
I did not need.
But what are these desires I seek?
*They are the real you,
The person that not many see.
Now go run free,
While the caged bird is asleep.

The cigarette burns bright
Between your perfect fingers
And I think that this night
Could never be any better

There's strawberry wine by your bed
And your hair falling down your back
And these thoughts racing through my head
As our bodies draw so, so close

Acting intimately
I feel very, very small
All these things you've shown me
I'm left struck with this awe

Your hand on my thigh, I'm shaking
I gently caress your smooth neck
My heart is violently quaking
As I draw you in close, touch lips
And fall into your kiss

There is a wire
Stretched taut
Between me
And Home.
Below me there is darkness
Dizzying.
It is copper-shiny
And whisper-thin.
This is no trust test-
There is no test.
(There is no trust)
There is no grade,
This one
Is pass/fail.
There is a wire
Just the one
Bridging the gap
Between me and where
I need to go.
And it is hot
And it is sharp
And down it little shocks of white light pulse,
And they arc away
To bite my fingertips
And nip the ends of my hair.
And my feet
Are bare
And I
Am bare
And I cannot stay here
Because the cold
Will **** me-
Bruised blue and purple
The air, the ground, the light, it's all cold.
It's all frozen with little razorblade crystals of ice
And
I'd tightrope walk right over hell
To get away from the knowledge that that
Cold light
Is touching me
And making me different.
And I suppose that's lucky
Because
When I set out along my live wire of tension
It slices into the soles of my tender feet
Like they're made of softened butter,
And warm blood trickles down and
Drips
Into the void below,
And I wonder if whatever's down there
Likes sacrifices
And if a few drops
Can sign a contract
And if I care
Who owns me
As long as it's not
You.

Nevermind the obvious quirks in my physique—
the thick thighs,
short legs,
t-rex arms,
and that ample, curvaceous figure of mine
which I own and work every day.

[Listen,
I'm certain I could get into the glitter—
no doubt I would have a killer stage name—
I figure I’d get pretty used to the instant gratification—
and there's no doubt in my mind
that whatever I lack in grace and *** appeal,
I could make up for in
charm, wit,
and a cuteness that I'm still growing into.]

But see, I have a slight fear of wearing heels.
It's safer for everyone if I stick close to the ground.
And although swinging around a pole
seems like a good time,
my motion sickness would probably kick in
and I'd ralph hard
on at least one of my investors.

Aside from the faulty mechanics I'd bring to the profession,
I've got my own rationale.

I like knowing
that when my clothes come off,
it's for reasons larger than money.
I like knowing
that I've left a little to the imagination
and can unleash it at my leisure.
I like knowing
that my secret weapons of mass seduction
are, in fact, secrets.
I like knowing
that I still have something to blush about
when I think about how I spent my Saturday night.

Nah,
I could never be a stripper,
but hot ****,
do I enjoy perfecting the art
of smiling while naked.

Jovial mess on bed encapsulates heartburn diarama
a fresh coat Bismuth Business man with codeine red sweet stains on his dockers
3am Dharmic ranting
"job well done Wednesdays"
and "feel good Fridays"
Moronic howling immediacy
immediately vibrating cell walls within the twenty-something aged voice box device.

Burly chest galavant
push up to get the muscle fat
lean, and impress upon
the natural on-and-on
leave the face unscathed along
Have to be outside
Outside where it's most safe
ascend the incline just before the nightshade
lose your technology in the primordial Koi Fish Pond in oxymoronic fashion and let the nature of this dream leer at you from the area down below.

Today I screamed at the wall.
It was broad daylight.
I bet the neighbors heard.
I threw your pillowcase across the room.
I couldn't breathe.
I wonder if you do this too.
I slowly sunk to my knees.
It kind of felt like a prayer.
Lying on the floor I pull one of your letters close to me.
You called me starfish.
It still smells like you.
I can almost see you writing it in your horrible handwriting.
Five more weeks.
I have had this headache for three days now.
Stuck with writers block since I left.
Sometimes I can't close my eyes.
Your blue ones are so beautiful.
My heart still pounds in my ears.
I wonder if yours does too.
I must have memorized all of your letters by now.
It really hurts.
I try to claw my heart out sometimes.
I think I'm crazy.
You must be lying on this floor with me.
I can feel your thumb brush over my thumb.
Your heartbeat is slower than mine.
I'm not sure if I want to wrap you closer to me
Or push you away.
I could drown in your memory these days.
I'm afraid I won't get back up.
I wrap you closer of course.
I'm wearing your T-shirt.
And the smile you gave me once.
I've spent the day on the floor.
It's Sunday.
Pancake day.
You always made them the best.
I think I'll scream at the wall some more.
Nowadays I can't go to bed without a cup of tea.
*It kind of feels like your lips on mine.