Where'd you find those eyes, doll
All your needles, all your dyes
Why'd you make me fall
Where'd you learn all that voodoo juju

Impromptu impromptress who are you trying to impress
Cause there's a million guys who'd like to get under your dress
They forget you're the ventriloquist
And I'm SOL when you make everything yours
Like you always do, like you're so good at
I don't bat an eye, you're the inquisitress
And I'm ******* Johnny Defenseless in your inquiry imprisonment

I feel pins entering my skin everytime I'm around you
Acupuncture queen bee, your needles might get on my nerves
But most of the time they relieve me

And I'm here, and I'm waiting
And I feel a little blind when I can't see what I want to be seeing
I'm a little flawed, I struggle with just being
You're written in a different language, and while that might be deceiving
I hear you're a good read, and I'm getting a little greedy

I want to be swallowed up
By shooting star's blazing tails
And the universe's
Infinitely expanding space
Black holes and black planets
White dwarfs that supernova
I want to be caught in the debris
Of the chemical dust and gas
Floating on the light
Of a thousand dying suns
We become giants
And we become supergiants
I will exist in the empty space
As air and grit and starlight
I will become dark matter
I will let the dark matter

Built on a pyre a man of death
A man of belief, searing away from his flesh sheath
A sword of fire, a song of wind
His body is carried into the thin

Night is certain, the moon reminds us of this
Even during day the waves may be ruthless
But without a day's work a night would be fruitless

You are a child, you are bliss, and you know nothing like the rest of us
We can never know a thing for certain
We can only see shadows through a curtain
So believe away and know that you will be safe
We can see what we see but never know why
Nothing is true, nothing is a lie
But would it be stupid to say that we all live in the shadow of the same God?

I still believe
After the entire storm we were
All the fights
The tears
The late night calls
I do think he loved me

And that hurts more
Than if he never had

Her ribs crackled, in the skeleton night.
And I remember my mouth on hers,
where atomic fish hooks attached our lips.
Where there was nothing like kissing
like our God wasn't dead.

She was accused of killing a taxi driver
in the Brazilian underbelly.
Smoking a cigarette, she dropped it on the ground,
spat on it, and crushed it with her bare foot,
saying she fell in love with the way
his sleep-drenched body lay.

And I told her to stay home.
And I told her that they'd find her.
But she didn't stay home.
And they did find her.

Chasing her through the Babylon brush,
insults were thrown and so were balloons of gasoline.
Each pink, yellow, and green vessel floated in the air, as an internal opera heightened.
And sour splashes spread across her body,
as she fled from the vigilante mob.

The children danced along the panoramic horizon she ran beside,
laughing, pointing, singing.
The slumbering sorrow of the situation became evident,
and she started to feel the calm of fleeting life.

Her dreams aborted and her ideals became fallacies,
and with the sound of fuzzy motors in the background, her heart leapt and her feet slipped.

Rope ate into her, wrapping her like the orphaned recklessness of each set of eyes that painted her.
She squirmed amongst the cheers.
She cried with every thrown beer and balloon.
The empty-eyed males gang ***** her.
The women covered the children's eyes,
and the children tried to move their mothers' hands.

And I pushed my way through the crowd.
And I saw her smothered in blood, beer, and gasoline.
I wanted to halt the hurricane that destroyed morality.
But I am a coward.
Frozen by my fear, I, too, am a murderer.
And a murderer I'll always be,
for the burning of all that was good.

Sudden flames soared towards the sky.
Laughter escaped as molotov cocktails exploded onto her body.
Her head turned towards the crowd,
as flames scampered across her face.
I saw in her, what I never saw before,
which was the human race.

maybe we are a sinking thing
some white cliff eats itself until
we stand at its edge where it
kisses our feet good morning
and i open under you, another
young rose you’re gentle with
in bed we confuse tomorrow
with heaven sometimes you
ask me about the beginning
of the world when there was
nothing and i tell you what i
know, what i sometimes dream
about: you came from my
left lung. you grew out of the
mud and you kissed me as
soon as you could. we named
each other and the inside of
you always tasted like wine. we
slept every night in star shatter
we were alone in a world that
loved us.