there was a girl sitting at my grave in the middle of the woods at night
she looked like she was born to live under the moonlight
I came up from behind and told her that it's alright, to dance on my grave
'cause I'd rather laugh about all those times we were told to behave
she asked me how I died, said that the train rider wanted me dead
he had an empty dollar figure reward on my head
I turned around and showed her the knife in my back
came around full circle and said, let's never look back
'cause I think too many people say that and never mean it
yet for some reason I believe I mean it when I'm looking at you
'cuse I think about all those times, I told my gravediggers to beat it
yet somehow when you stomp on my grave, I feel new
it's why I came out from underneath my tombstone
'cause I felt something that reminded me of home
it was nothing more than a vibration
a sound I was within, where I've always felt alone
sorry if my boney hands frightened you
as they clawed their way up from underneath the dirt
sorry if my dangling eye ***** made you feel uneasy
I was only trying to flirt

she told me that she thought she knew me
never saying a word
and when she opened her mouth
out came a blackbird
as if to say
hey
I think I get you
as if to say
hey
I'm grey too
yea the black of the black bird clashed so beautifully
against her white teeth
I think I knew that this girl most definitely
came from that place beneath
that place which seemed at first like Hell
a place that seemed so far away yet so close
a place that feels
as familiar as the haunting of a ghost
yea this girl was braver than those I knew most
braver than the Devil
braver than Jesus Christs most daring boast
when he died on the cross
and said it was God who he loved most
yea, she started laughing
yea, we were dancing
we were dancing on our grave
laughing about all the times we were told to behave

so sweet and so dark
so dark, the flesh of hers so sweet
as dark and deep as the roots of the tree
which bear the nectarine

eyes that may possess
Lucifer and her demons
to come out and dance
'round the campfire
to the rhythms
of her fiery Soul's burning caress

yet so ****** her beauty is to those who yearn
as she does not tempt those who love to burn
only stand there, before them
and simply say hello
from the depths below
where her infinite fires bellow
where she wields a boundless yell
in her eternal conquering of Hell

her beauty could never be expressed by me
and anyone who dared would die, surely
within the attempt itself, in a waste of breath
vain they are, misplacing their pride in her beauty-
'til death

shadows of her dancing through the woods
run through my dreams and compell me to die
I can feel her aching within me as I fall in love
with the way she moves as she dances, oh I'd die
oh I'd die-

as she dances as if there is no one around
as if, she aches for anyones presence
as if she'd only seen their faces, act as masks
hiding their souls from this Earths greatest distances
and so-
she is a ghost
and so-
I die, if only to fly
flip a coin
pull a rose pedal
***** my finger
give birth to metal
rise up from the ground
and raise Hell
just to have
a great story to tell
so she may sleep
a little softer
in the breath of Soul
I have to offer

so, you see
she is too beautiful for me


the beat of the drum
will never cease to come
it will drum
it will come
it will drum
it will come

oh I will drum
and she will come

so you see
she is too beautiful for me

for someone needs to beat on that drum
someone needs to beat on that God ****** drum

and this rhythm, may as well be my own heartbeat
for I would die to continue watching her dancing feet

The taste of cigarettes has become a trigger
tugging on my memories of intimacy with women
the mere thought alone of smoking is ***
I smoke a lot
lighting that cigarette with fire
inhaling that smoke
that sensation tingling through my veins
exhaling then inhaling
again and again and again
sometimes inhaling deeper
and exhaling slower
I love to watch the smoke plume out of my mouth
and linger in the air
it's such an intriguing contrast
between the oxygen and smoke
though sometimes I get lost in it,
this cloud of death
and see it bigger than it is
sometimes I forget to breathe
this is a habit of mine
pretending that I don't need air
I sit there motionless
as the veins in my neck
begin to protrude out from under my skin
and my head becomes heavy,
too heavy to keep up straight,
and my mind becomes light
then, as always, I open my mouth
and voraciously inhale some oxygen
I guess there's just something in me that wants to breathe.

A beautiful woman walks across the street in front of me
***, ignite, inhale, exhale
I turn up the music in my headphones
then, she makes eye contact with me with this look in her eyes
it was deeper than what was in between her thighs
and as if she could hear the music in my head
the flow of her body as she walked away swayed to its rhythm
this seemingly insignificant moment turned into something beautiful
it was euphoric
this simple acknowledgement of exsistence
of which I had experienced so many times before
had become enough to distract me.. . to distact me. ..
to distract me from the cigarette in my hand
which was now ashing itself
there was nothing ****** about it yet the after effect felt just as good
but it was a different kind of good
a good I could only feel from that moment alone
I looked down at my cigarette, now half gone
and contemplated on whether I should finish it or not
I stood up and walked to the edge of the sidewalk
and as I threw the un-finished cigarette down into the gutter
I realized that

Life is ***
there are so many things out there to ****
so many thoughts to ****
so many vibrations to ****
and I would like to **** for a very long time.

twisting, turning
piercing through ripe pulsating flesh
entangling, intertwining, in and out           
expanding with each inward breath
changing, transforming
as it leaves us
attaching itself to something outside us
waiting, anticipating
for the second piercing of our flesh

do not fear it
now that you understand it
my friend

after all

it is only oxygen

drenched in red paint
dripping down the curves
of her body-
of her body
onto the floor
which begs for more

we walk upon eyes
of the eternal Chaos- Ouroboros
in this home we've built
with the solidity of the swirling waters
dripping down from the vetiver
of where I first met her

those curves
Oh, those curves

these eyes, with no mouths
speak to us, possessing us
to paint the walls
as wild, as feral
as the thousands of sharp teeth
of the thousand wolves running deep beneath

they circle us
they consume us
like the Chaos
like the Ouroboros
they consume us
they become us

and so, it is so
we are flipped upside down below
running, churrning within the deep flow
we are the eyes, always knowing where to go
further than the mother of the winds can blow
brighter than the mother of Hells most fiery red glow

we are, drripping onto the floor
devouring, converging, begging for more
we speak in deep howls, speaking no words
lifted up, her legs wrapped 'round my hips, like the wings of a bird
moving, swaying, to the rhythm of my weathered sea legs
as the moon, moves closer to the earth, and begs, she begs-

to be like her and me

can't ya her the warring seas

can't ya feel your weakened knees

giving in to your warring plea's

blood red, blood blue
it is all the same
the moon and the ocean
have no name

the walls are painted
the walls are red
give in, give all
'til you've nothing to dread

give in, give all
'til you've nothing to dread

her words are like the wings of moth's
fluttering off into the flame to die

as smoke lingers in the air
from my smiling mouth

so sweet we were when we were children
yet now so bitter we are
existing as the words on the tips of our tongues
admiring the shadows of trees
cast upon our pale bodies
beneath the pale moon

that bottle could be bigger
as we beg for more silence
I feel as a vampire in the quiet
as I listen to the beat of her heart
churning her poisoned blood
expanding her veins
and raising her skin
from somewhere underneath-
fire
within fire
fermentation
of soul

and it becomes inviting
as I have aquired a taste
for Hell
and my lips are warm
and pulsing
loose like a wild flame
melting into-
teeth biting
and it is like the old man said
with no words
only wisdom
and blood on his lips

it bleeds out from me
like the raging seas
comanding stories
of ancient mysteries
only seen
by those who lost their words

"Do not waste"
she says,
as she notices the red
trickling down my lips

"Drink"
she says
and of course,
I do

just as one
bleeds their own blood-
with the sweet smile
of when I was a child
who had first undestood
what it meant to drink-
of course,
I do