Let me define the term M83 for you; the voice of angles multiplied by your most incredible dream attempting to become the sounds of heaven, may have the effect of making you feel infinite and being unaware that you as a human could ever hear something so angelic.

M83 has gotten to me in
ways i can't even get to
myself

Words
wantlikejustfeelwayhandknowpaintimeworldlovenightthinkalrig­htstopgoingwon'titchheartfasterlongeatgoodbreathingsmokedarklivin­gsoulwomensayokayrunohspacecoldsleepcloseblacktattoomushroomsself­truthpreferheavylostlongertodayfeedlatedrugs mean days hunger fine weight hair drawn teacher shaking promise bed feeling leave times spinning keeps songs *** abyss cares terrible tried bring bad voice laughter hurt gave guess apathy you've blood skin life left aware little away they're strength things hate doesn't whiskey pulsing ended breath returned men eyes inch turn hold kiss lips pull look joe control warming blame footsteps stuffed shroud shows horizons moral engulf someday understand stops blushing hush decide weapon describing pattern lover solace confident carefree addicted expect lucid absent appeal laying cleaning banished screaming honest diligent scrape disillusioned loneliness splitting stitch grief closer hug science animals smoking collars bud guilt rhythm steals company offered accepting **** bottles lend weather birthday exists ignored cooking admire tough darling mere steal knife affection lap wayside silently passes vision uncertainty guilty vivid bonfires recall hated instinct disaster madness hungry lyrics escape pains ******* necklace halt routines adopt invaded evolved spaghetti antisocial stash proximity manifestation vying comics eyeliner stashed flannels inked successfully batman spiderman faceless vibrato attentions skylines tattoos joker legion sanguine teetering unrequited complications artwork auras logos brother's shakira all-encompassing can- michelle's 15 18th m83 mcr dissmisser's blesser's terribleaspect voidof nobody's soul's day's fellers skewing fran dumbed underdogs gaming skype unshowered she's aren't what's they'll let's sinartra coagulate swallowing ammunition heartbeat ideas affirmation beard tempo brink slows gloat deer lace studded require throbs believes spectrum detached crescendos cheer favor foundations tugging forgiving ablaze gentlemen extended falseness convinced beasts normality saturday

Life in the city
always in the nitty gritty
if you can't make it here it'll offer no pity
a small town kid come to make it big?
warning you life here can be tricky

Hurry up I'm dreaming
like M83 you see at the stitches I'm steaming my sweats streaming down my face
trying to make my mark, or my space
on this crazy place I call home.

Riding the train
Seeing all the people go from one place to the next inside of 2 hours it's a little insane
how quickly life can move
but my question is
what can the city do for you?

I'll be okay if you aren't here to hold me
I'll be just fine because my blood keeps me warm
I'll keep breathing if I can't feel your skin against mine, I promise
I'll be just fine
If you won't be mine


The world screeches to a grinding halt and my heart breaks again
Everything pulsing
Everything Pulsing
My blood throbs behind my eyes
Skewing my vision
Shaking my foundations
A scream, was that my voice?
A vibrato of pain and an all-encompassing dark shroud of guilty pain
I welcome thee

M83 and another sober night
I reach for her knife, but my hand stills. Can I stop the flow for mere moments?
A semblance of normality would cheer my little shaking soul.
I want to appear as a white beast with dark auras, not a dead thing by the wayside

Grasping my quivering hand, can you feel the hate?
Good night to my soul, I put you to sleep before I frighten you with songs of death

water swirls in the bottom of my belly. my words grow legs and dance on my tongue and begin spilling out of my mouth only leaving an echo because you didn't respond. i let you take pieces of me i didnt know i had.  i am a dice you role every morning on a game board. wether the number is 1,2,3,4,5,6 they all still stand for "hurt her". rip her heart out and throw it on the ground. pick it up. drop it again. kick it. and she'll pick it up the next morning. and ill hurt her again. ill hurt again. ill do it again. if you leave. hold me tight one more time. stamp your kisses on every inch of me. ill leave the music on to swallow the silence. ill leave the door open wide. just in case you come back. just in case i can't open the door again. my limbs are limp. my head is swarming with bumble bees. their buzz sounds just like your ring when you text me. i let the bees in because lets face it my heart still jumps out of its cage and walks around looking for you. i hear the creek on the 4th step of the staircase and my speakers blare "wait" by M83, praying you turn around. i begin to go places that remind me of you. this is the type of pain that feels nice. this is the type of pain that i'm already feeling and you haven't even left yet. you're my daily dose of psuedo happy pills. you're 4am thoughts that itch at my scalp, begging to be written down. i am kitchen utensils. used daily. but left in the sink until someone else comes to wash me off. until someone else comes to ask if i am okay. until i come and throw the dice away. ill still be a game you'll always want to play because you have me figured out. you know all the corners to cut. all the cards to take from the pile and hide until the very end. until then i'm just a list of untils. and that will be the end of me. until.

the wheels of life
and the winds of change
led us to this place
where we lay
in the sun so bright, and
the fields so green
our lives mirrors of
reflecting light and love
and yet there was that
single moment, and yet
it happens many times,
where I think of you in your
most incredible hour of
gorgeous lemon and pigmented
indigo behind your head held high
and I think to myself,
"What could have been?"
And now I have glimpsed
into your copper eyes once more
and seen an angel and my
heart just completely soars again
down, down into the earth
where I feel rooted in what
was once your touch
setting my body on fire
and into a trance of complete
and utter happiness.
Your fingertips brushing back
my flaxen locks as we lay
in the sun by a river so cool
or the time when I leaned into
you as we listened to that band
M83...how I could relive it again
and again and again
the memory is burned into me
with a fondness that is surreal
for any relationship I've had
has always brought bitterness
and yet your laughter,
your charm, your intellect,
and your absolute love
has left me breathless
by sheer memory.
Now that I've heard the lyrical
tune of your honeyed tone
I can't but help to think:
could a flower bloom once more?