Most days I just want to come home to,
Find you in my bed,
And just fold myself around you,
And leave the blankets on the floor.
Each other is enough to keep us warm.

But what I want is rarely what I receive.
And so it's another bowl,
Then off to scramble for my keys,
And hope for the worst.

Sometimes I'll find myself looking for an escape,
Then realize there is only one.
And that is the path of the selfish and the weak,
And I am neither.

Far from brave,
But farther from cowardly.
I could daze for days,
And let misery shower me.

But once again,
I'm alone, radiating hate,
For this distance that,
Seems to obstruct our fate.

Once the passion in my eyes burns out,
Once you've realized I'm unworthy...
It's another bridge incinerated,
But let's be honest, I was never that sturdy.

Tell me how you can love such a heathen.
Tell me how you look into my eyes and ignore the demons.
Tell me how these chiseled horns hidden by my hairline are irrelevant.
You speak of love, but tell me what you can tell of it.
Tell me how I have proved myself worthy.
Make a believer out of me and at least act like you heard me.

I'm everything to you,
And you're everything to me,
But if you strip me down to the core,
I swear you'll hate what you see.

I see through that deathly daze of yours,
I see regret, opportunity, and gratefulness,
You told me that you weren't sure,
If you're happy because you're here,
Or glum because you're not at deaths door.
And that forever breaks my heart,
So I left the demonic devices behind,
And went to my car.
Sparked a cigarette, put it to my lips, and take a drag,
Here's to the worst night I've ever had.

We are protected from so much pain. For example: graves.
The earth’s roots and brown-black blood are busy
covering the soft, violated bodies of our loves.
Death is a secret, and the rain with its many hands

washes off the streets to the gutters death’s thick surprise.
The automatic shutter of the eye never fails,

the courtesies of the tongue. What goes on in the rooms of houses
is guarded from us by the hardwood doors,

the carefully closed windows. Whatever was said or done,
night will come, eagerly, to clean up.

And death will shield us, in time,
from the sun’s megalithic promise:

Tomorrow, the same day.
Tomorrow, the same day.

For example: A flower
is the most beautiful lie.

The feeling of your words on my skin,
Is so addicting,
I feel your words corse through my body,
And mend with my white blood cells,
As if a cancer that'd I wouldn't dare treat.
The consonants settle in my fingers and toes,
And the vowels and "Q" go straight to my lips,
Making me virtually speechless,
As I jabber gibberish and tongues.
I feel your verbs in my limbs,
Like an energy that makes me seem supernatural.
I see your nouns float from your mouth,
And sink to the ground,
In order of relevancy from closest to farthest.
I hear your adjectives chirp,
Like songbirds at dawn,
And I whistle back,
Just so I can hear their reply.

Can a demon sin against satan?
Lucifer's rules are simple:
Good deeds go severely punished,
And chaos is the reason.

My mind is moving much too fast,
To ****** a slippery slumber.
So I'll ache and wait,
And watch my brain wither,
As loneliness quenches its hunger.