Glue

I unlike most, prefer not to be held together. Not cause I don't want to, because I need to learn how to hold myself together without anyone else. The reason I don't hold other people together is because I want them to learn how to hold themselves together as well. I'm not broken, I'm not frayed, I'm not cracked, and I am not shaken. To be dependent is to be weak, to be a brick wall is to be foolish. Call me a fool for I'd rather be a strong fool than a weak intellect. Never let them see you sweat and in turn you'll never bleed. I will take it, swallow it whole and ask for just a bit more. I just need someone who knows how to handle me. Come around.

Strings and Simple Things

we only made out, you never kissed me.

Mission accomplished, through tooth and nail, through pushing and pulling, through hidden messages in the airwaves. Its funny how certain acts drain every ounce of innocence of even the simplest places. Like unclogging a drain and watching the water whirl pool down the drain into rusted pipes. We only say what we want to hear yet somehow we're both perfectly aware and at the same time perfectly okay with it. Just allow your eyes to adjust and your senses perk up, easy baby, its just like riding a bike, ease into me. Rumour seems to have it that I'm a thunderstorm, taking what I please, choosing what I want, coming at will, putting up walls to block off the attachments. If all goes as planned, neither will fall because neither of us will catch the other. Its written in blue or black ink, conventional lust. Each others outlet, a release. Lets see who can keep their emotions string free. I'm willing to place a bet.

Skin

i wish you only knew
how i crack like porcelain for you
how my foundations shake
how my hands begin to ache
the tighter you squeeze
the harder i breathe

Desires v Dignity

I guess we both just want to hurt. Not ourselves and not each other, the ones that hurt us. Sure, its comparing murder to manslaughter but our own spiteful desires tend to overshadow all convictions. Tend to fuel our irrational behaviours. Tend to justify our desires over our morals. Tend to sink their teeth hard enough to inch you forward. Just as long as we hurt, just as long as we hurt the ones who hurt us.

I Am The Sculptor

I want to be a sculptor, I want you to be my clay. Let me run my fingers along your soft substance, your cool damp edges smooth to my touch. You are mailable and I am ready to shape. Crack free and essentially whimsical to my every movement. We dance together, taking on each others figured, stumble over over our bends. Dancing along the gravel of the ground, enveloping everything in our path. Becoming one with ourselves, one with one another, one with our surroundings. Melting in the summer, freezing in the winter. Catching every zephyr, repelling every drop of rain. We will not crumble with age, we will not erode to become sediments in the life cycle. Here we will stay, a sculptor and its clay. Morphed into one. Art imitates life. I am art.

Fact

They always tell you things you want to hear.
They always whisper sweet nothings when all you want is a meaningful anything.

For Fear Of Being Redundant

It sure is lovely when you know the flag is about to unfurl and all the ties that you hold together are about to slip through your greedy fingers. What goes around comes around, and whatever it is, its about to make a pit stop right next to you. Taste the bitterness of your own medicine for a change, let it blur your vision and impair your judgment. The day of reckoning looms so close and my baby, you don't have a clue. I have not the energy to drop hints, you'll stumble over yourself without poise and skill. You'll be your own demise and I'll watch it all come falling down, knowing I pushed the first domino. Farewell friend.



dream me oh dreamer
open your hands
and let them weave onto yours.

Bad Blood

Bad blood runs through us, through the tension in the air, through the diverted eyes and the eerie silence. No words necessary. Stomach is a bottomless pit of resent and possible guilt on the other side of the battle field. Jokes untold, lips share the taste of the same partner one the loved, the other the loving. The past and present, the possibility of future lingers just like the bad taste of back stabbing. We bite out lips and hold our tongues steady, they keep our secrets, our harsh words, our weightless apologies and notions to raise white flags. A civil war in a sense, scramble to recruit your men. Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth, friendship for a friendship, spite for spite. A loss. A stalemate. Stubbornness dosed in flammable awkward silence. We're never alone, always filled with someone else. This will climax, just strike a match.

Simple Teething

I'll get under your skin
trace your pulse down your neck lay my seeds in the cracks of your self esteem
tie you up in thoughts like the coarsest ropes around your neck
feed you poison, have you melt into me.
Mix my colors into yours to create a palet of blinding color
suffocate you with myself
you'll never breath again
you'll never breath again.

Out of Site, Out of Mind

Take your leave while you still have you dignity. Four months from now out tires will by cut once and for all, you will cease to pull at my strings 3000 miles away from the place you once called home. Hopefully it will meet your high expectations of climate and culture, or studies and suns, of dreams and dillusions. The unfinished business will rot because you're not returning to clean up the messes that you've made. Always adding ingredients with a slightest smirk, always adding them to your melting pot, ever overflowing on to the table and down its legs, staining the marble and seeping through the cracks that we've created. I will not sit with a map on my thighs tracing your futile journey, the lines won't define anything with substance. You decided to take the highway as oppose to the highroad, and yes you are running away. You can leave town and coast, but we can never call it even. You've tipped the scale and laughed in the process. No, you'll never understand. No you didn't break me. Yes out of site is out of mind, but no you'll never be far enough away.

Sometimes.

sometimes I wish people weren't brick walls
weren't mindless pools of themselves
weren't endless tunnels of self satisfaction
I wish people will purge themselves of temptation
of fixation and desperation.
sometimes I wish people weren't hollow
weren't emotionless
weren't self affirming.
sometimes i wish i wasn't a person.





For Whom The Southern Bell Tolls

-Don't play the Victrola now honey.
-What Victrola mama?
-Any Victrola.