please do not say "i love you"
to me, if you desire to be my lover

i wont be impressed,
and my heart wont flutter.
it's cliche, and overused, and the phrase honestly bores me.

you could lay your kisses on top of me
like dominoes,
and call me the rising sun that tinges the clouds
with peach and crimson.
you could say that i am the fear in your stomach
when you're about to jump off something high,
you could say i was dead roses in the cold of
Marches early snow.
but jesus christ.

please do not say "i love you"
to me, if you desire to be my lover*

cant you be more ******* creative than that?
can anyone be more ******* creative than that?

it takes a real proud man to make a girl cry hard. most things a girl can cry off in ten minutes. Tough things. Like giving birth to big *** babies with their big *** heads and ****. But that's not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about the deepest cries. Ones that come from the most hurt-felt part of a woman's soul. Ones that make your eyes close and your stomach sick. Ones that make your whole body freeze, and all you can think is, "i am responsible for this unbearable pain, on such a gentle woman's soul."

i am a master of this art. i have learned the call of the lone woman; almost a swan song, of a dying gentle soul begging to be heard. Begging, for the one who can save her to act before she drowns; to do anything but stand there and stare. Anything but let her die this lonesome death just out of reach of his arms.

i have a recipe for hurt. tested and tried thoroughly over the years, i can now say it is perfected. i can hurt beautiful souls and shatter their wonderful dreams, then so simply turn it around to make it sound like it was their fault. one may say this is a fine delicacy. i say it is the recipe to feed lost souls. ones who will be lost in limbo for all eternity because even in death, their pride was still too big for the afterlife.

there is a special talent i have that is unique for mastering the art of hurt. like x-ray vision it is a power to bring out, in other people, what they don't want anyone to see. i can bring out the worst in a beautiful soul faster than you can look in someone's eyes. i can make monsters of magnificent beings, then call them crazy and be on my way.

Leaving behind a faded tye-dye that's left to hang dry in the sun, knowing that her colours will never shine as bright as they once did, ever again.

.

For forty days and forty nights I roam a vagrant sea
with no light to guide a man to shore, no beacon summoning.
I see no time: no days, nor months; only moments reckoning
in silence for the one who comes to end my suffering.
On boards of plank, washed red with ***,
that glisten in the morning sun; I lie awake, and await the one
who frees me of my mortal bond.

I promised I would soon return, and yet I yearn, remaining true.
'Cause forty days turn forty years and now my blood runs blue.

When I was little, every Sunday I’d go to Church
I was a child drunk off of fairy tales and day dreams
And I loved the idea that we could go to heaven when we died
And the pastor looked me in the eyes and said
"God is with you."
And like any 5 year old would, I believed him

My family bowed our heads and prayed before every meal
But halfway through dinner they’d start yelling
And I remembered what the pastor told me
So I covered my ears and asked God to make it stop
But I felt all alone
And that’s why I’m an atheist

At school the kids would pick on me
I didn’t understand why they didn’t want me as a friend
And I prayed to God that they’d stop
But I also prayed for them too
Because I was a good Christian
And good Christians love their enemies
But nothing changed
And that’s why I’m an atheist

I remember the first time my mom hit me
One time during a fight
She told me I was stupid and worthless
And after a while I started believing what she said
I started to wonder
How could someone so hateful
Call them self a Christian?
And that’s why I’m an atheist

I prayed that God would make me beautiful
Because I wasn’t skinny
And I knew I wasn't good enough for that boy I liked
But every time I looked in the mirror, I felt the same
So I stopped kneeling in prayer
And started kneeling in front of the toilet
And that’s why I’m an atheist

I haven’t prayed in 5 years now
I have only one request of God if he exists
That he end the pain right now
But nothing happens
So once again, I will have to do things on my own
And standing so close to the edge
I think about how I used to love the idea of life after death
But now I’m obsessed with the thought that when I do
They’ll be nothing coming after
And I can have eternal sleep
And that’s why I’m an atheist

I want you to kiss me
Good night
Not goodbye.

To feel your hands
In mine forever
Through all the sorrows
And not just for now
Until tomorrow

To not let the unspoken
Be left behind
As well as me.