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1.3k · May 2013
Basorexia
Joe Rader May 2013
I'd slit my wrist
for a passionate kiss
To touch longing lips
And tongue's subtle twist

I'd bite the blade deep
'Til the blood starts to drip
First slow and then fast
like my pulse in such bliss

I'd smile as the puddle
Grows round my kicks
and vision gets muddled
Having gotten my fix.
Joe Rader Sep 2010
I'd rather have the nightmares
I'd rather have the worst of dreams
Where demons dance through every thought
And adorn the sickest scenes

For the feeling of these silken sheets
Now fills me up with fear
'Cause I know that when I open my eyes
I still won't find you here
810 · Sep 2010
Icharion Flight
Joe Rader Sep 2010
Soon this short Icharion flight
Is coming to an end
And on that day you'll mourn the rights
You chose not to defend

Passing on the plight of patriots
We piddle on their graves
Play sad songs and hold our hearts
While the blood spattered banner waves

But the cries of a billion tiny voices
As they cry themselves to sleep
Can't be heard above Lee Greenwood
As the tears streak down our cheeks

It's awfully sad to see such things
In such a sorry state
But ignorance is only bliss
Until it's your head on the stake

Our eyes attract to shiny things
Bright lights like fishing lures
Robbed at gunpoint before we're paid
We're either soldiers or we're ******

As these toxins trace my tiny veins
And seep through every cell
I can't help but taste distain
And think that this has to be Hell
Joe Rader Dec 2013
I die inside...
Slowly...
As one piercing word twists the knife...
Future, Present, Past.
And I gasp.
Breathing deep but finding no solace in the air around me.
Finding myself swept aside as timing's harsh laugh crashes down on me.
And I lie.
Back scarred by the black shards that used to be the world around me.
Now I clearly perceive the tense in which I now reside.
I struggle to stand but collapse in agony
As a jagged piece of my favorite "could have been"shifts against my spine.
The only answer my cries receive are the callous taunts of a million happy memories
As they march to the beat of the shattered heart I cant seem to clear from my bone dry throat
My voice cracks as the razor sharp fragments shred the delicate tissue
That used to be my vocal chords
Silence envelopes and entombs what remains.
789 · Dec 2013
A Sticky Mess
Joe Rader Dec 2013
From the age of six to weak bones and homes for geriatrics
We all still wanna **** the same eighteen year old actress
So go home *******, switch hit and call it practice
And I'll go home and write some rhymes about these ******* fascists

Pray my humble words find wings and fly about the atlas
Play like in my best of dreams when words become the catalyst
To tear apart the great machine 'til the haves have never had less
We'll both wind up with a sticky mess and possibly a bad wrist.
715 · Sep 2010
The House of Wax
Joe Rader Sep 2010
When this at last falls to ash
Well rise out like a pheonix
The eagle shall be beatin'
For these creatins have demeaned it

Brains are washed away
In the main streams current
And the path of least resistance
Gets a washed and watered version

The truth's a priceless prize
That if you want you have to earn
And pieces pure of *******
Are crystal clear once finally learned

God has set this task before me
To melt this house of wax
And though I have been found wanting
He makes up for what I lack
634 · Sep 2010
Beauty
Joe Rader Sep 2010
Beauty's merely a black hole
To bring a man to his destruction
A downward spiral of the soul
Drug into Love by beauty's seduction

Love is just a dark abyss
A cross to bear, a game to play
Secrets lacing every kiss
The ocean of words you didn't say

But every time its the same
The hopeless martyr I walk in
To this pit this pointless game
Even though I know I'll never win.
477 · Sep 2010
The choices we live with
Joe Rader Sep 2010
You had the choice to make or break
My heart and had it long ago
Though in fear of bitter tears
I'd shed if you decide to go

I told you not to even fret
For one heart must be cast aside
I thought if happiness was yours
You needn't know I died inside
353 · Dec 2013
Old habits
Joe Rader Dec 2013
I'm sorry if sometimes my tongue trips
And I slip and call you Baby,
Old habits die hard like hearts scarred
From rolls I've found myself in lately

It'd be far easier for me to leave
And believe you'll always hate me
Than to see that look in you eyes
That look for something that ain't me.

— The End —