I'm franticly searching for a bit of oxygen, I'm suffocating
these dreams are drowning me,
no surprise, I fall asleep at night stalking along the shoreline
I wake up, surrounded by salt water.
your words sent me asphyxiating
choking on what to say next.
this constant wave of emotions is no longer worth
a relationship that there is no hope in catching.

i bought a pack of cigarettes tonight, even though my lungs don't work quite right.
i sat on the stairs in the yard of the old house with its walls crumbling,
with its facade turned to dust.
the air was so cold it stung my fingers, frost licking my face,
turning my cheeks blood-red but nothing hurt
as much as you do.

i smoked a cigarette tonight, even though my lungs don't work quite right.
the smoke filled me up and i feared
it would leak out of all the holes you punched in me.
it didn't. i choked and i coughed and it felt a little like drowning.
like your mouth on my mouth, like your teeth on my neck.
i choked and i coughed and it felt a little like you
so i liked it.
who cares i almost died.

i smoked a second cigarette tonight, even though my lungs don't work quite right.
nicotine ran in my veins,
blue rivers along my pale skin and it felt, it really felt
a lot like love. a lot like you. a lot like us.
galaxies scattered across my skin, poison running in my blood,
yes, it felt a lot like us.
i didn't choke this time, but i think you would have laughed
at the way i ******
on the cigarette ****.

i smoked a third cigarette tonight, even though my lungs don't work quite right.
i swallowed cancer like a drug and it stung
at the back of my throat, and it burned and it burned and it burned
as ash gathered at the burning end
and fell to the ground like snowflakes,
little flakes of ash on my sneakers
and it reminded me of your kisses a little, i didn't choke this time.
i laughed. a bitter laugh.
you hurt at the back of my mind as i put
the cigarette out and i thought about the way
you'd look at me, boldness in your eyes, hair a little all over
the place and your mouth
shaped in a little "o"
as you blew circles of smoke out.

i smoked a fourth cigarette tonight, even though my lungs don't work quite right.
the cold stung but not as much as my lungs burnt and my brain burned
and you hurt.
i blew smoke out but never quite like you did,
and i thought it looked and was a little
ridiculous maybe
to burn the leaves of a plant wrapped in paper
and fill our fragile bodies with the exhausts
we breathe out smoke like broken steam engines,
ain't it funny, haha.
you'd laugh, harshly, you'd bite me, you were always
a little rough.

i smoked a fifth cigarette tonight, even though my lungs don't work quite right.
it's not half as venomous as you were, i decided.
i put it out.
cigarettes are so not worth the hype.
you were.
you are.

I just want to feel my hand on the shaft
Pushing and pulling, making my craft
Where fantasies, wonders and pleasures become
The basis for a mischievous mental mind graft

Where pleasure meets pain like abs against rock
Sweat glistens down my brow as I glance at the clock
Couldn't clean all this filth with a bucket and mop
I play with my hair while stroking my ego

Gotta get it done quick or the whole thing's a bust
Gotta take enough time, satisfaction's a must
Don't care the sensation of feathers or wood
Gotta push and pull quick to work out the rust

I'll spend this whole night heavy in breathing
Because it feels so good. I'm never leaving
Don't be confused if this text is deceiving
I'm just writing some new rhymes to "Don't Stop Believing"

its thanksgiving, two thousand fourteen
I listen to "Alices restaurant"
the full eighteen minutes and sixteen seconds, in remembrance
of how thankful I was to have a father, like you.

step back, correct your own mistakes
respect our mourning, don't deflect what you'll regret in the end
you haven't only disrespected us, you've neglected taking into consideration my fathers wishes.
take care of us
being unaffected shows your carelessness.
cause' we won't stick around forever, now remember never bring another man into this home.
Its your house, but our home.
why can't you ask yourself, what would dad think about this
he is gone, but not a moment is forgotten.
you've crossed a line, you can't come back from.

I spit fire
only wanting to inquire the truth
not one true statement out of your mouth
liar
our relationship is headed south
in dire need of our mother
get back on track
teetotal your way back to reality
I'm baffled, those perplexed nights
you disappear without a word
smoldering coals of anger arise
  *and    i     spit       fire