Broken bones, cracked wood, bullet holes
concrete jungle, trashed hoods
events parted souls.
New generation,
burned eyes, pictures burned within
the frame of mind.
Flicker like flames, burning bright
like daytime. Behaviour leaving
vague signs..smokesignals.
Adding oil, fake signs
attracted like a moth to the flame
the pyromaniac saves time.
set-up, stamp time
written the punchline
**** it, it's lunchtime
This One Ate Seven Poets
Get burned lines
like the horizon touching the *sunrise

I will be divided over peace if that is what it takes to uphold it.
But I am divided into pieces.
The back and forth of hard to decipher decisions.
I know what i really want.
I want to know what i really want.
I hold the bill and i have sold it.
My soul was paid for with blood.
The proof is stamped on the bottom of my being.
on the rock i rise from there is a word-Tetelestai
It is finished.
It is pricy and it is paid for.
The price that he laid on the table to purchase a ***** is remarkable.
I  still catch my self trying to profiteer pennies to afford
to buy myself a shiny new soul,
i still stick my hands in places they dont belong
It is finished, but it is old,
Today I am in the stranglehold of silver,
that i wish was the guillotine of gold.
So i throw it back in the face of false promises
and try again tomorrow.

Why?
When,
Tetelestai.

red stripes of blood
stolen pearls as stars
a white house built with bones
the pledge, a discreet battle cry
a trail of tears we ride upon

It has started
occurring to me
that I rely
too much on my
muses
to give me worth.

We are
too young
and I am
too small
to start giving
bits of myself away
to be stretched and
expanded upon
by others.

I cannot
be restricted
to dependency
or limit myself
to the dead-end
streets
paved by
people with names
I forgot.

I can walk
in whichever direction
I choose
and write words
that I will not
dedicate
to you.

A CRUISE SHIP
STRANDED IN CITY STREETS
A FIRETRUCK
ON FIRE IN THE RAIN
DO YOU UNDERSTAND
MY LOVE FOR YOU YET
THIS IS DRAMATIC IRONY
YOURE KILLING TIME
IN THE BEST WAYS
AND SOON ENOUGH
IM BLEEDING OUT
TO YOUR VOICE
BOUNCING OFF THESE WALLS
YOU ALWAYS PUT THE LAUGHTER
IN MANSLAUGHTER

[holyoak]

"The problem with suicide is that when it becomes an option in your mind, it's always an option."

If *** is all you wanted, you could have gotten it from your hand.

TELL THEM HOW CLOSELY YOU WOULD WATCH YOUR BATTERY DIE, TELL THEM HOW YOUR HEART WORKS THE SAME WAY, TELL THEM YOU ARE SO TIRED OF BEING USED, TELL THEM YOU ARE DEAD.