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921 · Oct 2012
Bleeding lips
Tazz Oct 2012
I am through thinking about you
Never again will I do what you want me to
My hatred goes beyond lies and cheating
Do you love me now, when you are lying on the ground, bleeding?
Your life in my hands, what a tragic waste
And oh it’s such a pleasure to bite your bleeding lips
        Naked, tainted - you’re crawling towards my feet
Are you trying to awake my compassion?
                You will not succeed
The music plays louder, as I am telling you about your choice
Cut off your ****, or die to the sound of my unforgiving voice
                                You’re eyes are crying
“If I cut it off, you will set me free?” I spit you in the face and whisper;
     - you’re best friend I will be
I give you one moment to follow through, and still I don’t feel pity for you
          I bring you my rusted scissors
Chained to the floor, you are still begging for my mercy, and I must admit
                       it’s turning me on a little
While you’re cutting your **** off, I *******.
You’re eyes are swimming with such devoted hate
I’ve never heard so intense screams, or seen so much blood. I love this feeling of being God.
I **** your bleeding ****, picked up from the floor.
        I am alive like never before.
“Now set me ******* free” you yell, and I will rise and leave your cell.
Never again I will come back here, so there’s nothing left for you to fear.
Except maybe the fire, I in the house will start.
        No one will ever find you, or your body that the fire ripped apart.
769 · Aug 2011
Twisted logic
Tazz Aug 2011
the ground is painted red tonight
i found your body, laying in the last daylight
did you deserve what happened to you?
in the end they all do
your tongue is ripped out, leaving your mouth disfigured
i raise my hand to salute the last future you ever pictured
you look so pretty like this, lying on the ground in your own ****
what happened to the ego you once wore?
did I accidently break your skull when you called me a *****?
your cold lips cries silently to me
begging me to separate them from your head
i do what as they say, replacing them with mine instead.
i have said it once before, but mark my words boy
even in death, you’re nothing more than my worthless toy
i found you where I left you, lying in your own filth
to humiliate you, was such a thrill
you're boring now cause you're didn't survive
and while the sun is waking up
im feeling so alive
638 · Oct 2012
Human
Tazz Oct 2012
****** with meaning, under the sun
Dust and bones from an old loved one
It’s all around, and you breathe it in.
Do you feel me now, under your skin?
Human: Complete.
496 · Aug 2011
Colored Birds
Tazz Aug 2011
Take the time to make this last, look at the world, and watch it crash.
Take me there, to watch the show, in the end, we’ll quietly go.
We walk in silence, walk in noise.
Perfection is a faded choice.
There’s nothing left but us, beautiful creature.
Maybe we will find the brighter future.
Until then, let’s not say a word.
You can’t say anything I haven’t already heard.
Maybe in the next world, you will speak new words.
And fly with the toxic, colored birds.
456 · Oct 2011
Can We Please Turn Around?
Tazz Oct 2011
Our lonely path
                 Beneath hollow trees
                           With such dark clouds above
                                              Can we please turn around?
          The lingering of your lips
                                       In the breeze
                                                     Can we please turn around?
                     Your smile makes me cry
                                       The storm is gathering
                                                  The feeling of my skin  
                                 Without your touch is slowly killing me
                                                                 If you grand me one last chance
                                                     One last choice
                                                                   We would turn around
                             Living in our filtered past

— The End —