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SpazticOrange Jun 2016
Script the past, script the past##

Scripting the past, yeah, I be scripting the past

Just a little more paper, just to make it all last.

Scripting the past I can't believe I'm not first,
There are messages and dangers I think I might just burst,
Into flames, into inferno, into the burning depths of hell,
Yeah I'm just scripting the past, but I can't seem to tell...

anymore if it's true, if it's fake and if it's made,
Secrets and lies all tools of the trade,
In currency and... staying current,
how do I stay relevant
when I'm scripting the past?

I'm tired and I'm wired,
To a system of history that cannot tell the story,
of a man that only has worry,
of a past he cannot shake, from a sleep he can't awake.

In his dreams he scripts the past,
in a space and time so vast,
he cannot wake he cannot take,
a glimpse of his soul,
so old, so old, so old...

As he

Scripts the past, Scripts the past
SpazticOrange Aug 2015
Hurts to love,
Tugs at the nerve,
tight as rope,
yet weaker than hope.

We can't all be lyricists,
to tunes we can't desist,
put your hand on my chest,
this isn't a test.

Take your time with me,
come dance with me,
I'll hold you tightly baby,
I'll treat you like a lady

Let me test the waters,
while I **** my jitters,
I'll drop a soulful beat,
and let's raise the heat...

Then we'll just dance the night away...
SpazticOrange Jul 2015
Ever feel trapped In your own skin?
Like you can't begin to remember yourself?
Someone threw the blanket over your eyes,
Only you were born with it,
Covered all over in a tight grasp of humanness.

Sure you can scratch all you want,
But there's no escape.
You are you,
You've always been

Don't hurt yourself anymore,
Let your scars show, for once let them show you off!
You can stop living like you never cared...
Because when you cared enough to tell your self you didn't care you only cared so much more...
Of who you've become
Maybe of who you can be...

And you can be!
Anything and anyone,
But you've got to be you in being someone.
And they will love you
For the scratches and the claw marks,
As you tried to tear yourself free from your personal prison.
Wars end... And fingernails break... And hearts bleed...

You can be you now.
And I love you!
SpazticOrange Jun 2015
Like an open can of tuna,
Oh, please, Miss-Fortuna,
to who did you leave my fortune.

I'm empty!
So empty!
Yea, I'm empty!
SpazticOrange Jun 2015
Loving you was hard.
You were an outcast; you loved what others wouldn't.
Even when you were small and I became real, you were hard to love.

You lit things on fire and you gave light to where there wasn't.
You had no light for me yet,
and you couldn't love me.

I watched you find company; you feel more than you should for others,
and so you fall.
Sometimes one of them picks you up, but you never saw me behind them.

You once gave your heart away, and I was happy for you.
Watching it slowly flattened to the grill and burnt to be undesirable...
that was hard.

Then one day, you found him.
He was perfect and I was jealous.
You gave him everything you had left; how I longed to be loved that way.

Remember when you lost family?
Now he's your family...
Where is my place in your heart?

Now you scream in the night while I stay awake watching you dream of a better life.
Your tears flow and you scream in my ear.
I scream back, but you gave me no voice.

I see the figures that stand around you inn the night when you sleep;
black and devoid of light, they watch you.
They reach out to you with rotting flesh;
the smell is so bad...

I scream for you to wake up to the light;
Your burdens are heavier than mine;
mine was only ever to love you.

Loving you was hard.
Maybe if I beat emotions in another's chest I wouldn't hurt so much.
I loved you so much!
I am you!
I've always been!
Why can't you love me?
SpazticOrange Jun 2015
It's always been an itch so deep within;
I had to scratch hard to reach "it".
I never really got to it though, not until recently.

I always only teased my skin, tasting it's texture;
      the folds, the falls and the risings,
      like great wars I fought with myself;
      there were times when I fell and times when I rose.

I never really wanted to test myself...

I enjoyed the rest it gave my soul when I scratched,
      I lied to myself that it was my way of perpetuating happiness.
      But I wasn't happy, was I?

So I tease my skin.
The sharper side of the blade was always more comforting.

No hand and no love could remind me of times when I didn't need to tease.

So I tease my skin, and I test my skin
and suddenly it splits!
And suddenly the blade tastes my blood;
      a new beginning of a friendship;
      blade and blood be one!
      blade for blood, and blood for pain.
SpazticOrange Jan 2015
I cannot begin to describe myself,
so I'll just leave you with two words,
unbecoming... whole...
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