Leak into another night
     I am dead mechanical
Cut black lines into my skin
     Tattoo me with asphalt
Touch my face one time--kiss me goodbye with an insult
          I'm just fading tail lights
          It isn't my fault.

               Your fingertips are tracing something...
         And my reddened eyes are craving something...
     Some might hope for for the weather's improvement,
                        but, me?, I'm hard in love
                        with the cold front that's
                                     moving in.

Let me crawl across the sky--
     a skull coated in red wine.
The Titan's getting tipsy.
     I'm at home in the sweating night.
Cracked my ribs one time, kissing asphalt on Orange Street
          Then I had to stand up
                    screaming
      after sweating through sheets!

                My memory surrendered something...
            Your frozen face was mending something...
        Might have hoped for condition's improvement,
                        but, me?, I'm hard in love
                           with my aching--that's
                                     all I am.

Dead Mechanical
     Romanticize it.
Dead Mechanical
     I can't eclipse it!
Make me fiction, or ***** my fingertips.
     Let me lie. I am Dead Mechanical.

I never eat at break.
It started with recklesness;
it always starts like that.
Forgetting to pack up food in the mornings
where I could hardly get up.
The first days,
weeks,
months,
I was hungry.
Yet still every morning I forgot,
like an animal surviving in the present would.

Over time,
I forgot hunger too.

So, while I'm here broken & ******                                                           ­                     
                                                                ­                                              
Mascara smeared; she still looks pretty                                                           ­ 
                                                               ­                                                     
Even with that smile in her eyes                                                            
­                                                                 ­                                                
  That ***** is the devil in disguise                                                         ­         
                                                       ­                                                               
She took my love & my pride                                                            ­                      
                                          ­                                                                 ­         
Now every day, I die inside                                                           ­               
                                                 ­                                                                 ­
Puffy faced & pouting mouth                                                            ­              
                                                                ­                                                      
She shows you what love's about                                                            ­
                                                                ­                                                  
She was a habit you couldn't quit                                                            
­                                                                 ­                                                   
  It was me you chose to forget

Lost in the peculiarities of the crowd,
Searching for identification,
In the warmth of companionship,
In a hug, in the comfort of a smile,
And in the depth of sharing.

But they remain empty,
Suffocated by loneliness,
Shouting within a space
Without transmission.

By such fleeting people,
Lost among so many options,
Passing like Russian roulette,
In search of the perfect alignment,
Nonexistent.

But, in diving into unpredictable moments,
In the whirlwind of scarce and immortal time,
Is perfection found?

No,
Just a temporary relationship,
Built by the strength of company,
Extended by the strength of love,
Often sustained by the constancy of habit
And continued by the convenience of routine.
Yet, beings so diverse in their "selves"
Change, mold, and transform.

Perhaps that is why the constant struggle
For encounters and mismatches
Is so few and fleeting,
Consumed by the fire of passion,
In search of the consistency and coherence
Of the multifaceted and other being.

it's always you, sweet child
you take the burn
beautifully
let it mark your hands
and feast on your chest
watch the flames make you recognizable again
coax the deepest wails out of charred, tired lips
oh my, sweet child,
how you've grown to love the fire

You didn’t realise just how easy
it was to slip
how you can lose track
lose count and how quickly
a habit can become addictive

Once you get the taste for the hit
you find yourself reaching for it
and before you know it, you’ve slipped
into a dependency - fortunately
this time you’re only a *****
for Lemsip

I wish I still smoked
**** yeah
It's the ritual
the need to make time
to die a little
opening a new pack
shiny cellophane
the lid flipped back
paper seal for freshness
pulled out to reveal
20 happy moments spent
inhaling, coughing, thinking
the soft packets
where you flicked the
cigarettes out like movie
stars and the Marlboro man
who are all dead now
roll ups, kit form bronchitis
liquorice flavour papers
combining childhood flavours
with adult life takers
the smell clinging to clothes
and hair dragon breath
but we all looked so ****** cool
so adult so grown up
so ****** clueless, *******
on our manly pacifiers
I wish I still smoked
**** yeah
just don't have the courage
some how