Thursday, July 19, 2012

Tell Me


All this time has past
I've stiched my lips,
papercut tongue as
the salt burns passion
I can't anymore, let
this out I must now

Fucking young years
of pain, guilt,regret
to top it off I'm more
fucked up at 15 than I
will ever let you see
All the fucking whiskey
and drugs, my 20s just
past, like my friends,
all I have is DUST.
I SHOULD BE BURRIED.

But I'm not
PLEASE TELL ME THIS WAS
ALL WORTH IT,THE SELFABUSE,
THE FALLING,THE DEATH,TELL ME

Part 2 comin'

Princess Leia and Glass Cleaners First Mix

Princess Leia and Glass Cleaners

Wednesday, July 18, 2012


Sweating it out/to the drop of a shotgun/life's
all about one but we see it as I/Wake up/Fake another day and spin that clock/Tick fucking tock/till we all drop/Sweat drips ice/Brain on that tilt/Ragin away on your own rapids/Brain tease/clit tease/Lets fuck on our own terms/die on our own terms/This means everything

untitled


Untighten your grip
let her sail away
Her disease is your
Self-worth,excuse
and she's holding you
down

Loosin' that grip man
that venom ain't yours
to bare,not your cross
but you're acting like
your jesus to her now

Breathe her out, let
your veins feel
warm sea water air
Healing, future stars
that universe is ours
this world is ours

Healing, breathing,
let her go brother

YUM


Sweat, breathe pulsing
withinthat lotus heat
electric lights dance
moonlit cosmic essesnce
OUR electricity
Flipping our bodies over
in the water, lips bit
in ecstacy
to be continued...

Rant v0.4


Scattered martyr
between shifts
and colors, pitches
I'll bitch just to
yell at a empty sky
Building crumbling
innocents bleeding
my heart screams
Panic through, shift
and let me hear some
beat of I give a fuck
Lost, broken pictures
from decades ago...
Smear the paint on
the wall, can't type
can't fucking think
because its all your
commercial now, your
dial-tone answers
MONEY MONEY MONEY
Let the Rx control
our heart beats and
minds, our minds
so numb, dubstep
rhythms play as tears
hit this wooden floor
Fuck, we are the true
living dead, living
fucking dead
Breathe, 1,2,3,
red white suicide

Saturday, June 23, 2012

346


Trying to
listen
to the
Sir Paul
Electro
pulses
drive me
to that
edge
Then
Darkest
that
dark side
of saturn
or the
moon
whatever
that shield
is between
you and I
colors of
the 4 am
shine hope
with my
crooked
teeth grin
waiting for
the sun or
a glimpse
of my
moon wanderer