*******, sawdust
Whiskey and rust
This is the life
This is cloud nine

This used to be a simple alibi
But now it's just a damaged lullaby

It's hard to kiss
Skin that crawls
But in the dark
The weakness falls
Unasked questions
They do rebound
Silent screaming
Rings all around

This used to be a simple alibi
But now it's just a damaged lullaby

Tattoos, perfume
Gasoline fumes
Nursing this poison
cringing, no end
Dysfunctional love
is what we make
just one more hit
It'll be the last I take

This is the life
This is cloud nine

You ripped me open like a present on Christmas Day.

Cold hands in a warm bed on a dark night.

The Eskimos and butterflies taught me how to kiss you.

You smell like cinnamon and shampoo and too many tears.

Jumping rope and sticky grins and blacktop promises in chalk.

I would trade my sanity for another kiss with you.

Sharing music with you was like reading you my diary.

Soiled sheets tell stories I could never bear to share.

Sometimes I wonder if you really smoke to **** yourself.

You taste like sin and safety at the same time.

I remember holding your hand, never wanting to let go.

Kiss me like I am oxygen and you're on Mars.

The lines on your hands are rivers, whispering your past.

Good music and elephants and heartbreak remind me of you.

Is it possible to harbor "too much" love?
Does it blind those that look into these eyes, like when you look directly into the sun?
My eyes are tired and burn in the darkness of night, and I'm not sure if that's a relfection of being one with the light or being tired from this endless fight.
We spin on turntables of various perspectives.
The tables turn and our hearts turn aggressive.
A voice that shakes like unstable breaks, makes me want to thank the way these words easily become written all over my face.
You don't have to look too far, just look into my eyes - a demise that is out of sight.
It might be the right time to end all that should die inside of these rhymes.
Maybe I'm right, maybe I'm wrong, but that is the beauty in life - we still have the freedom to create our own song.
So, we walk.
We walk to the beat of our dreams, yelling "**** what you see me to be, I believe in all the words that they never could sing to me!"
Aggression gently hidden by a message.
Answers, always ridden on the wrong end of the question.
This is my confession - I walk to a song of everything I reckon, through these turntable eyes.
Recognize, my demise won't be televised.

- L.G

How do you manage to transform
A tsunami like me
Into tranquil waters.

I will forever love you.

Your mother and I have a lot of trust for you
We know you wouldn't do this but we thought we'd reiterate
If you know anyone dating a black man,
You are to tell us and will never talk to that person again
I grew increasingly infuriated by this chat
So what if it were an Asian man? Would you let me date them?
My dad shifts, shocked I would have a counter question
Well I guess that would be okay, only because
They come to America striving to do their best
However, if prefer it'd be a white man
You see. Black people do not try. They have attitudes
And it's becoming a fad to hang out with them
It took all of my will to not lunge at him
My mother chimes in,
The the bad attitudes of some black people
Pull down the reputation for the entire race
It shouldn't be that way, I mutter
My dad leans forward, why are you sticking up for them
He begins to scream, my trust has dropped!
Stop trying to argue because their is no argument!
No matter what you say it'll be a NO
And it seems like your being suspicious
So to clear things up, YOU WILL BE KICKED OUT OF THIS HOUSE
If you ever date a black person.
The tears flow like a broken pipe and I shutter,
*Not because I can't date a black man, but because of the inequality and racism that my parents reek of