My heart is a derelict graveyard Sodden with poetry that reverbarates miles and miles away with each painful throb And so... The aftermath, the ache Tantamount to phantom limb pain Surgical exorcism of the heart from the other Here we go again Some dude said Love is a dog from hell And maybe its a fairy-tale mirage like Christmas Hail Mary Rid us of this daemon That which instills terror in these frail hearts Schizophrenic attempts to make the Mermaid of Venice copulate Filthy little beast LOVE Next season I might never unleash you And forever extinct you shall be in me Good riddance, mind pollutant, even air Nothing like love is in the air I couldn't have jammed into darkness and stench Today you might just fall down into your ****** organs and vanish Like a pin dropping into the Grand Canyon These feelings Phantom limb pain Finally the warmth is dissipated Culmination of the opposites is impossible Not with you and other various forms of human **** Rigour mortis of my soul So what choice do I have? Except to evacuate this fantasy of madness And secretly nurse my phantom limb pain At least this "Stiff" gave birth to a poem And maybe a poet
I wrote this when I was still trying to coerce my girlfriend into becoming one. She had then, told me to *******
How can the public be so judgmental when all they know is lies.
I'll be that failure I wear that title well. I won't cast a VOTE I'm not part of their lies nor do I support the whole deception.
I need to see the place beyond the ice where giants still build pyramids and chimeras all fear the wrath of God.
I'm headed south for the winter and to save myself from this system I'll never be apart of without a number around my neck and shackles across my heart.
I need to be where corn is eaten three times a day, siestas are expected and people are the color of the earth. I want to die amongst the depleted Monarchs and the migrating Quetzal Hummingbirds.
I wish to put my mind down for its final rest in a place where lies are not respected and the truth is nothing but the truth.
Somewhere thats far away from here. A place that does'nt feel the need to claim its self the freest of the free while chained to things like laws, debts and the television screen.
I'll be where I don't speak the language and the people don't care. I'll spend some time in old Mexico drinking away all my bad memories, dancing with ficheras, making real Love to ****** and finding a way to start over.
A new way after I break free of the lies, bring myself to an end and build up the courage to leave you all behind. So I can start myself anew.
I can't afford attachment Because my peace of mind is too costly Not that I don't truly care about anyone It's just that nowadays it seems like trying to be nice Is Like playing Russian Roulette with a submachine gun Now it seems like playing with people's emotions is the latest form of fun and you can't stop people from feeling, it's like trying to move the sun So I can't afford attachment, I'm going to save myself excess pain
I wish I could pay for love as my tears fall down like drops in the rain...