there once was a happy family that lived in a cottage at the end of a long and winding road.

once a week, in the morning, the mother walked down to the town square to trade at the market. sometimes she brought the children along, if they promised to be on their best behavior; they always crossed their hearts and hoped to die.

every week the last stop they made was at the butcher's shop. the butcher was well known in this town and several towns surrounding it. everyone came to them for their meat, which was prepared and wrapped right in front of you.

the best part was their price: all they asked was that you watch as they carved slices of flesh from their own body with expert precision.

These feelings,
I know them,
I’ve felt them before.
I was reeling,
In feelings,
I felt from a *****.
But now I’ve moved on,
That’s all in the past.
She’s out of my life, she’s gone,
I knew that **** wouldn’t last.

Then why, I ask,
Do I feel this way?
Towards the girl I love,
The girl that loves me.
I sit and I think,
About the feelings and thoughts,
That seem to come about,
When it seems I’ve forgot,
That she really cares,
Like nobody before,
Much more than Heather,
That stupid-*** *****.

Let’s think a second here,
She smokes and drinks beer,
Along with these habits,
Comes unending fear,
That she likes other addiction,
More than our love,
More than our friction,
Cause when push comes to shove,
I’ll let her shove me,
Right down the stairs,
Before I create some part of her,
That will need repairs,
Years and years from now,
If she ever left,
If she ever up and,
Stole my heart out my chest,
And ran and ran,
Blood spewing and spraying,
Like love was a game,
That is just meant for playing.

And she talks to this guy,
A past sugar daddy,
He thinks that he’s sly,
With Britney and Maddie,
And Courtney and Tia,
In all corners of the world,
He’s got girls that will be a,
Nice ***** for him,
And he likes my baby,
And she says she misses him,
So maybe... just maybe,
If she goes to Canada,
And decides to meet him,
They’ll get in a situation,
Where she decides to treat him...

I know this will never happen,
But there will always be the fear,
That one of us will **** up,
So I worry the end is near.
Soon I’ll gain trust,
This won’t last forever,
But, until then,
Trust issues I’ll sever,
I’ll cut them all off,
One by one,
Because feeling this feeling,
Is anything but fun.

Such a strong branch holding up the
fruits of so many seasons but then one
winters wrath did the wind pick a fight.

Though it fought against the odds, it bent
within the breath of failing and yielded to
                       the chosen fate and befell its birth.


Falling silently in a wood of mute descents,
           where nothing was heard, but everything
knew that something was not as it was before.

Even thought strength held it at the yearning of all
below now it was stagnant. Then eyes pondered upon
its elegance. A fortitude of worth now meant for other means.


And though cleaved it was meant for a purpose,
             not one that it knew, now sewn on to
metallic wows. Sharp edges flowed like breath.

And so many times did it fall, not as before
                       this time it drank a different dew..
    teardrops flowed upon its eternal falling.

But it never grew weak, feeding on the nourishment
                                   of each diminishing stance.
Though it fell from the tree it still grew in depravity.



What was once a yearning life, growing further than
any other. It fell and became contaminated within
                                  earthly pleasures which it drank upon..    

A moment falls that severs ever moment before,
                     and what falls in moments after isn't
confused.  
                             It now has a purpose of the death it felt.

I’ve got to wake up early tomorrow
There’s a stillness in it
That you don’t find in my stomach
It does flips and flips and flips
Brush the hair out of my face again, will you
I know I need it cut

I would sever Every. Last. Inch.
of the 100,000 miles worth of veins
coursing through my body.
If I dared to ask the same,
you wouldn't even pick up the knife.