The language in the dimmer rooms seems to represent its light source well
How soft they speak and seem to be at peace
with the movement of the music and the madness that is pulling me into this
And the shades of the lamps are woven red
The light, it stains and consecrates
anointing all forgotten forms that swirl and smoke
and haunt this place
The girls in gowns all nurse the dark
pulling it near to their swelling *******
and watch as it seeps to their hearts
and beats within their ****** chests
And here I know that seduction breeds from wanton hearts that would
****** and grows and spreads its vine
and leaves embracing those who might have moved
But now we're made to drink the night from vials black and thick
with such intoxicating delights would leave you drunk
inside this dream
And you watch them take the light from you
and you find yourself on a velvet couch
tasting the skin of a foreign girl
Her eyes are black and wet like oil
and she ties your hands with a string of pearls
and you tremble like a frightened bird
And she closes in and captures you to place you
in a silver cage deep within her poisoned womb
So once you're safe inside she might let you out
to fly in circles around the room,
but it's always night and there is no moon
and you wonder if you're alive
and you're not sure if you want to be
but you drink her sweat like it was wine
any you lay with her on a bed of blue and it's awful sweet
like the fruit she cuts and feeds to you

Everybody is psychotic
in this unbalanced neon creation
some would call the universe

And nobody gives a **** about you


Especially you.

You walk on tears
like they're made of kitchen floor tiles

You're not Jesus
You can't pull that **** off

You're the protagonist
of a story that makes you out to be hero
by filling the bed in my heart with onyx secondhand exhaust
(it still smells like you)
for my own good
Hoping my life is meaningless
forcing me to hate you and hate myself
for my own good

You're not Edward Cullen
You can't pull that **** off

I hope you still feel almighty and hot
when you realize how honest I was.

In the end all I see is hate
and self-loathing
and kitchen tiles stained with tear streaks

the world isn't ending
don't try carrying me away
with swipes of a double edged sword
verbose lunges
now that kisses aren't so quick and
sharp

if only
just for two
or three
ticks
or
tocks
of the clock
you stopped
thinking of me

The city has *** with itself, I suppose
As the concrete collides, well, the scenery grows
and the lonely, once bandaged, lay fully exposed
They undressed their wounds for each other
And there's a boy in a basement with a four track machine
He's been strumming and screaming all night down there
The tape hiss will cover the words that he sings
They say it's better to bury your sadness
in a graveyard or a garden that waits for the spring
to awake from its sleep and burst into green
Well I've cried and you would think I'd be better for it
but the sadness just sleeps and it stays in my spine
for the rest of my life
And I've learned and you'd think I'd be something more now
but it just goes to show it is not what you know,
it's what you were thinking at the time
This feeling's familiar, I've been here before
In a kitchen this quiet I waited for
a sign or just something that might reassure me of anything close
to meaning or motion with a reason to move
I need something I want to be close to
And I scream but I still don't know why I do it
'Cause the sound never stays, it just swells and decays
So what is the point?
Why try to fight what is now so certain?
The truth is that all that I am is a passing event that will be forgotten

The explosion lasted for 27 seconds
The fallout, a few years more.
I could comprehend the what where and why’s
-How the ceilings became the floors.
What was left was rebuilt, by
Who was left and had the will
I know, I’ve seen, I felt
-Splint delivered a demise unheard
Shrapnel was what I was dealt.

In fiscal time, there needs no restart
No physical wound, but shrapnel at heart
Sure we fought, and some still survive
We will all live with debris for the rest of our lives.