Thursday, February 11, 2010
today was a snow day
today was a snow day and it felt good. black out then white out and its good to be here. In the recent weeks I have found a new sense, it tastes like something familiar and nothing that I know. Drank 99 bananas and passed out yesterday, feels like a month ago. a year ago. this is not the same time. And today was a snow day and i laughed so hard. it would be nice to start reading more. it would be nice to have a routine. but ive never really done that before. pretty neat to have things be all flighty and shit, never know what you're gonna get. its nice, but its tired. i do actually have energy when i want to, thats something fun to know. today was a real person.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
spin doctor
Flash flood. Its cold out baby,its cold outside. I keep hearing these trucks dumping trash and pounding trash and playin real loud.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
from april 2008 - angry didn't want to lose it
You pressed your hand againts my mouth and instructed me not to breathe.
Locked in a house of matches, you douse me in gasoline.
Locked in my tin chest beats a potatoe heart.
Locked in my anger, I am a whimper
and I can't make you hear me over your own cacophony of shame.
How dare you?
My walls are crumbling and you are dreaming of sunshine.
You pressed your hand againts my chest and instructed me not to feel.
Strip me down, and you slice saw dust into my wounds.
You are wrong, I will escape this house of flame.
You are first on my list of things to forget,
and yet I still miss the smell of your laugh.
You are a catalyst of your own misfortune and I will dance out of your way as you spin out of control.
You held your face againts mine and promised me you'd never choke.
Not that I need air, I don't need to breathe.
And you sang me lies until my ears forgot truth.
Now, perhaps I will fight for my life, in your sea of hot cowardess.
And I am lost in the sight of you, and my body is burnt and cold.
You have me in an ashen grave, and by the time I pull myself out,
the buds of hope will be curled in your heart.
And until then, I will goosestep and rain until this fire is out.
Locked in a house of matches, you douse me in gasoline.
Locked in my tin chest beats a potatoe heart.
Locked in my anger, I am a whimper
and I can't make you hear me over your own cacophony of shame.
How dare you?
My walls are crumbling and you are dreaming of sunshine.
You pressed your hand againts my chest and instructed me not to feel.
Strip me down, and you slice saw dust into my wounds.
You are wrong, I will escape this house of flame.
You are first on my list of things to forget,
and yet I still miss the smell of your laugh.
You are a catalyst of your own misfortune and I will dance out of your way as you spin out of control.
You held your face againts mine and promised me you'd never choke.
Not that I need air, I don't need to breathe.
And you sang me lies until my ears forgot truth.
Now, perhaps I will fight for my life, in your sea of hot cowardess.
And I am lost in the sight of you, and my body is burnt and cold.
You have me in an ashen grave, and by the time I pull myself out,
the buds of hope will be curled in your heart.
And until then, I will goosestep and rain until this fire is out.
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