Jan 2013
I felt it, i had it, 16 times down the road, i had it. cut like ***** clean on ice down the back of my throat. Tickled my tongue with wishes of lust. 34 days crashed into 3 and half hours of manic words, thrown out in to the air accompanying articles of clothing i wished we'd never worn. I cut it open early, i could smell the beauty of the fight that was to come. I would not protest, because 'thou does protest too much' you would say as you clamped my hands behind my head and threw me down like a linebacker making his 100th play with the cheerleader watching from the sidelines. I threw pictures at you, ones i had taken when you weren't looking, ones that you wished juliette lewis had been in the background, sashaying some old country moves. I found eyelashes in places i had never felt before, counted a thousand wishes off the palm of your hand.
Zipped me right back up like some old vintage boots, turned me around six times and downed your beer and told you to try it just once, and i would kick your ***, bruce lee style circa 1982. I lost my lines, found them under your footprints, lost my voice and found it imprinted underneath the lipstick you left on my inner thigh. Breathless i watch you walk towards me, like a mirage, like you were swimming underwater, fully clothed. And whoooo-weeee HOLY cow, i gave you one more over-the-shoulder-knock-me-out-backwards-she-was-the-rumour-i-told-ya-about stare, made you wonder eh? Made you think i was something else eh? Never think i am anything more than what you think i am. I wore those boots, i frikkin owned those boots, and **** i looked GOOD.
This is a moment. How great is this? I am not waiting around for it, for you, because waiting means i have lost time. I would rather dream of you, idolise our future, walk around like i owned the place, hold my head high and make nuclear footprints down weary roads. Every day, is like this to me, i am not perception, i am not thought, or theory or idea or time....i am no-ones government.I bent high and low, warped and wrapped my face around forces i could not understand, stretched my arms wide open around the world and its sons-of-a-*******, and it still didn't fit, so threw the ****** off. My heart is tattooed on my arm, slightly above my scar from that second-time-round-relationship that got me nowhere, but i cut it out, that's me, that's how my love rolls; thats why my love rocks; bad *** high roller, floating, fighting-til-it-dies, beautiful awesome heart.
So i packed up with my cigarettes and my phone in my back pocket, met you at the car with a bottle of JD and two limes. I thought you looked too good, your hair like that, and your half smile. I wanted to make you a movie star of local proportions, so that the credits would hold your name and mine together in lights, and local boys would be too scared to ask your name. I made you a cd, sat with my camera and took pictures of the places you said you hated, watched as your collarbone played hide and seek with your hair, your mouth moved to songs you didn't know. 16 times i turned, 16 times you got me, i had you at that. So i took off my socks and shoes and got ready for the drive of our lives, because the needle was better than the reality.
Zipped me right back up like some old vintage boots, turned me around six times and downed your beer and told you to try it just once, and i would kick your ***, bruce lee style circa 1982. I lost my lines, found them under your footprints, lost my voice and found it imprinted underneath the lipstick you left on my inner thigh. Breathless i watch you walk towards me, like a mirage, like you were swimming underwater, fully clothed. And whoooo-weeee HOLY cow, i gave you one more over-the-shoulder-knock-me-out-backwards-she-was-the-rumour-i-told-ya-about stare, made you wonder eh? Made you think i was something else eh? Never think i am anything more than what you think i am. I wore those boots, i frikkin owned those boots, and **** i looked GOOD.
This is a moment. How great is this? I am not waiting around for it, for you, because waiting means i have lost time. I would rather dream of you, idolise our future, walk around like i owned the place, hold my head high and make nuclear footprints down weary roads. Every day, is like this to me, i am not perception, i am not thought, or theory or idea or time....i am no-ones government.I bent high and low, warped and wrapped my face around forces i could not understand, stretched my arms wide open around the world and its sons-of-a-*******, and it still didn't fit, so threw the ****** off. My heart is tattooed on my arm, slightly above my scar from that second-time-round-relationship that got me nowhere, but i cut it out, that's me, that's how my love rolls; thats why my love rocks; bad *** high roller, floating, fighting-til-it-dies, beautiful awesome heart.
So i packed up with my cigarettes and my phone in my back pocket, met you at the car with a bottle of JD and two limes. I thought you looked too good, your hair like that, and your half smile. I wanted to make you a movie star of local proportions, so that the credits would hold your name and mine together in lights, and local boys would be too scared to ask your name. I made you a cd, sat with my camera and took pictures of the places you said you hated, watched as your collarbone played hide and seek with your hair, your mouth moved to songs you didn't know. 16 times i turned, 16 times you got me, i had you at that. So i took off my socks and shoes and got ready for the drive of our lives, because the needle was better than the reality.
