I get easily annoyed,
Being the only sober person along
On this tirade
Of ******* kisses
And malformed care.
I spend my time easily convincing myself
That the only way I will believe he loves me
Is if he splits his bleeding heart
Over my chalice
When they display my body to him
At the morgue,
Toe tag so lifeless against my sole.
I think of my body not as a temple
But a bear trap,
Sprung or in the process of springing,
His ankle twisted in it's teeth.
We walked into this together
Knowing each others baggage
But suspecting there to be hidden compartments.
With ease
I compartmentalize my anguish
And move one,
My emotions just a simplicity
Too enticing in their entirety
To be dealt with accordingly.
I have brought myself to believe that he loves me
But only in his frontal lobe,
My life and personality
Being at the root of who he is today.
I say ******* kisses because he is addicting
But I say ******* kisses because
He is deadly.

Tripping' to sleep after the departure of the ******* puppets & scarecrows from new depth of perception.
dreaming will into existence. The day of the dinosaurs has come and gone.
We are but Tourist on this trip, So lets just watch the flowers bloom. Floating on the mist of a cold summer moon.
Lets us breath in the beauty all around us.
Triangles in the night sky,visions in our eyes
Circles around us,psychic tyranny
Beauty even in death. Its good to be alive

I can taste the ******* drips, an IV of memories, a life line
I can feel my nose bleeding, I begin to laugh, why me?
Is it getting hard to explain to your parents what you did last night? Do you hold back? Do they even care?
Mine don't seem to give a ****
My mother asked me why there's black circles around my eyes, asked why I seem to be on edge, why I'm never home
A lot of questions
I don't like to say much, I'd rather just do
I'm more of a slap you across the face kind of girl, or a dance away from the smell of hate kind of life enthusiast
Sometimes I wish I cared
Most days I'm glad I don't

I'll never forget the night you slammed the door.
It was the same night you grabbed my face and screamed my name.
I'll never forget that night you drove to my apartment drunk,
then told me later it was a lie.
I'll never forget the night in the park.
The night you screamed at me for getting high,
screamed at me for cheating while high.
The night I found out you went through my phone,
while I slept quietly in your bed, four months ago.

Here we are now.
I'm clean,
except for the occasional *******.
That's my secret.
You're drunk,
more often than I'd like you to be.
So what's your secret?

So do I slam doors?
Should I grab your face and scream your name?
Do I take you to the park in the middle of the night?

Unfortunately, no.
I'm the only one who makes mistakes here.