I leaned over backwards
to eat the paint that dripped from
your lips, hearty sentiments
given to nature by exquisite controversy
life took humanities blood drenched towel
and squeezed us out
and now we lay
here
in something that is so
much more powerful than your
average noisy silence
and I smile gently to you

I use to be obsessive and content at a certain point
now Im carless
now the shrill doesnt dig into my marrow
just my skin
Im not drained of every ounce of blood
just exhausted in thought
my burning passion is in my esophagus
and I will hold my tongue
until your dead
fatigued from my mind and up and gone
I'll sway you on a rope in front of me
to torture myself every now and then
because Im twisted
in violent serene ways
Ill give you a high with my sensitivity
Ill curl up like a infant next to your knees
and ask you to sing me your favorite lullaby as
a child
that is what I will rest to
and hold out on all your most accepted
memories
because I will make them mine
and steal them like grains of sand
from the playground
cover your eyes
when I walk by you
dont speak and block out the noise
because I only plunge
and the refusal its what makes me light the
candle
let the wax burn my thighs
and Ill meditate to the songs of your soul
while staining my insides with coal

someone told me you have become very thin again
they say your eyes have grown dark
and they find you in homeless caves
starving out your painted adventures with hopeless
remedies of your small id

your human has grown petite and you relate to things
that have no tongues
to things that do not speak
twisted dreams flutter above your head like numb
blue bats

your extended bones and your heartless sensibility
you drag yourself as if you were a corpse
imitating life, or trying to at least

there are no tricks no doomed songs
no childhood memories or sing alongs
dissatisfaction creeps like a permanent cloud
coming and going like nature in its ultimate height above you

it makes you churn like heavy mechanical machines that make
horrid noises at midnight when you are trying to sleep
when you ask yourself
am I really happy

I almost fell asleep
before i convinced myself to write of you
and who ever knew I would write of you

tonight you craddled my mind
in thoughts of you sitting next to me
humming the same rythym that breathed on
everyones soul strings

wraped in my culture
wraped in your voice
and wraped in the man
who I thought was the men of all men
come to find
I wasnt treated as if he was so

so it goes
the story
I met a young gentlemen
who almost changed the course of my life
and shook my world
with the simple smirk of his sinful lips
the epic glare of his eye

I surrendered for a minimal amount of time
i forfited into my weakeness
and wraped myself in it
immeresed myself into something that
was out of character and insanity
or maybe not

and so it goes this story
of the days where i use to spend in the garden
the days i spent picking fruit
the days i spent alone
with the grumpy old hearts beating down on my mind
the days i spent dwelling in thought of you
dwelling in absence of you
dwelling in longing

i held my breathe
and suffocated underneath the gloomy water
and i held myself there

your look was sly
and then you intention shifted
and so did my thoughts
the glare in your eye didnt shine the same
and my hearts beat started to slow down
and catch on to its normal pace

your lips changed and with that your tongue
why did people matter
people should have never mattered at all
and maybe if you were different
it would have lasted more than a month