Seeing the flames
   Burning everything in there wake
             Taking my soul down too
   I can't take all this
       For God's sake
    Like a sidewalk massacre
Everyone has to stop and stare
        Watching all the blood drip
    But none of them really care
           Gotta get a grip
I know this life ain't fair
         Trying to balance my thoughts
    On a tight rope of razor blades
Getting sliced up on the inside
      No matter which choice I make
Whether or not I know they lied
           I'll always know they're all fake
   And it's a shame
           That it's always a game
     With no way to win
Or start over again
         Without being the only one to blame

Phone ringing with the cord cut
     That's the way we like to f*ck
  When we know they know
                    And the walls are just play dough
               And the heat we make turns this shelter to clay
            It makes it so intense we forget what to say
     But it's okay they'd listen anyway
         I'm trying to take the time to see just what makes you tick
         And I was never looking for smoke and mirrors or obvious tricks
            Just your essence and your presence made me question what I know
     What they know
     Walls made of playdough

Dusk turns to night with the lights off
        So silent
    You could hear a pin drop
        Deep breaths slowly fill the air
Rattling these walls made of playdough
            So in sync we don't even care
    That they know we know
Taking the time to take it slow
        In your eyes I see that raging fire
    Of these feelings I will never tire
And your skin embedded in my memories
         Makes me realize what I've always known
    Just your touch and your existence erase the tragedies
          What do they know
  Through these walls made of playdough

There's a beautiful gun in my hand.
Flawless.
                     The nightshift sun gleams off the barrel like a swan on a lake
     At home against the humid sweaty dark pressing against everything yet awesomely singular

     The clock stopped a long time ago and gunshots took over in place of the ticks and tocks…

     (I'm chewing on something soft)

                        … and I never noticed.

It seemed natural.
Every bullet chambered was just another hour passing

       And though it feels like forever I know its been half a day
      

        Blood laces the treads of my shoes
     Hugging the rubber and drawing patterns that I'm less aware of than I am of...

     (What is this? It's good.)

... myself

         Everyone I know is sitting in a pile.
        No more alive than the gun itself.
Still they talk. Memories are shared and advice is given. I don't care to know if its real.

        Everyone talks. It makes sense.
   Even the dead.
  
           The ceiling fan noisily labors diligently if not futilely against the unspeakable heat. It's the only sound I can be sure of. The motion helps.

     Nothing else is moving except...

    
(Chewchewchewithinkicanithinkican)
    
        ...My jaw. Steadily gnashing through…

     (Everyone talks)

            My tongue. I don't care about the blood at my feet or the fact that its coming from my mouth.

      *What worries me is that now everyone is staring at me and I dont have any gun at all

I miss you
Now you only exist through photographs
     And I wonder if you smile between the frozen moments I see of you
   I plead its true
          Cause I'm bleeding new negatives of myself
    But the only pain I've felt was putting you on a shelf
                 I can't see it any different
    I think of you an infant and now I see you crawling and I wanna call your momma but I wonder if it matters and when to cut ties
     I cut all the veins until most of it died
     I got blood on my hands but most of it dried
  Somehow the blood mixed with filth and a vine grew inside
      And I wonder if I can touch your face if I climb

        *When is all lost?
When its all tossed aside and goes out with the tide?
                   I need a vanilla sky to make a horizon and bring back the water
             Meanwhile I hear mommas having a daughter and I want her to be a doctor automatically
     Cause success is something none of us ever got to see

Tell me the stories I haven't heard yet
While they're fresh on your mind so that you don't forget
I'll memorize every line and tell it just like you did
Long after you're gone I'll tell them how you lived

I'll write you a letter each year on the day
And lay it with roses at the site of your grave
I'll ask the same question in gods name I pray
It reaches you in some impossible way