| always for you |
[May. 18th, 2012|03:21 am] |
it is the one constant. sometimes it's hard to remember i'm still a garbage pail kid. sometimes it's like a night without stars inside my head. but sometimes it's like the skyline blurs, and the roads follow me. always the moth to your flame. love, i've been told, is not hardloudfast-- rather, something one falls into swiftly, quietly. with a whimper. your grin could power cities, but your smile-- your smile could light the east coast. every word i stitch is a love poem (for you); each breath a struggle i wouldn't bother with otherwise. i love being in your seams, the contours of your neck. tattooed your handprints to the insides of my skull. our love is legendary. it's all so big, so vast (we want to stay young & obscure). but there's no sense to not falling in love. i can't help that it's boundless. knowing that it will last. in this lifetime, in the next, and in all the lifetimes after. our past will continue to call us back. but you call to me. through the nordic days, i peeled skin that should have stayed put: was nothing but skin and scars, but you were a melody and you remained twisted around my heart. this ache in my chest has to have a name.
things to accept: i will never not be nocturnal. my finger would feel empty without your ring. i will never not need you. i will never not need you. |
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| (no subject) |
[May. 14th, 2012|02:22 am] |
"They know I'm crazy enough, I'm desperate enough for you"
Love is no emotion. It doesn't depend on your mood, your appetite, how much you slept last night, how you felt when you woke up. It doesn't reflect what kind of day you've had. It's not an impermanent thing. You can't compare it to happy or sad or angry or frustrated or excited or anxious. Love is not a feeling, but I don't know what it is. |
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| (no subject) |
[May. 13th, 2012|03:24 am] |
just one, just by accident
but it's fitting for the night/time anyway.
bubbled & swelled as soon as it touched the skin.
but it'll scar where no one will notice;
they're much too few & far between now that anyone would notice, anyway.
i choke on my heartbeat these nights. it's like i feel the flames already lit at my feet. these nights especially, the world is a mess: sucked dry of everything that means anything. it makes the air stir under my skin like a storm, sharp and metallic and burning, so hot that i'm scared you can tell from miles away. singes my eyelashes and tears through my chest. a puzzle minus all the pieces.
you're a familiar kind of blue; sooty lashes and callused hands and always the buzzing in my ears. my roots are in you. i still think of you, dream of you-- that hasn't changed. ("now that i've found you, i'll always be back.") i could measure distance by the numbers of times our fingertips brush, and space by the curves and planes of your hand. you left; the scars didn't. i count nights by the twice-breathed air, and spend my days watching to see if the sun falls from the sky.
two finger-shaped bruises, clutching my heart in a pinch, tonight. i can be fluid, i can be anything you want. 'cause i swore these things and i mean them: i'd topple the world for you. my ghost would wait for you. where you are, i long to be. |
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| luv |
[Apr. 25th, 2012|03:36 pm] |
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i want a cast of your hand so that i can hold it in mine always. but that wouldn't be the same, would it? i'd have the shape and size, but not your texture, your warmth; your touch. i want to feel you beside me forever. |
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| (no subject) |
[Apr. 19th, 2012|12:18 am] |
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Each morning I open my eyes and wonder when I will remember how to wake up. You make me want things I didn't want before, but you gave me no reason to stay. Now I'm lost but at least I know where I need to go. I can only imagine what it would've been to know you, instead of your shadow--with your impossible smiles and fever-bright eyes. But it's been a while since I wasn't alone. My memory betrays how blue your eyes really were. I could measure our distance in heartbeats, if not in feet and inches; my heart thrumming with a terrible wrong all the while. There's a strange sort of intimacy in anonymity; in knowing everything you want is wrong. Too caught up with inhibition and the desire to twist out of my damn skin. But my heart drums on, and in your arms, I yield. You've got me in a chokehold. |
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| (no subject) |
[Apr. 18th, 2012|11:19 pm] |
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So many things still remind me of you. Little, every day things: stars and freshly-mown grass and oatmeal and good backyards. Salamanders and footprints and and walking sticks and boats. You were my storyteller and my hero. Now you're my guardian angel. |
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| Ever Onward |
[Apr. 6th, 2012|01:09 am] |
My room stretches across oceans sometimes; it's like there's not enough space in the world for me. Night spills like ink outside my window and I watch from the inside; splinter into pieces. I could spin life with my fingers and smile a smile that's bright and mad, but that doesn't mean I won't blow open, exposed. Watch my thoughts scatter and collide.
There's an echo where you used to be; I think I can hear it, sometimes, but other times I think I'm just going crazy. I can remember much worse silences, but not worse spaces—the tiles are numberless like stars and the walls stretch and I tend to watch the ceiling until everything feels more like loneliness, and less like dreams I once had. You're a phantom pain from a limb that has long since been severed.
Make my bed like beaten earth and lie in it; dream of hospital whites. It's the same thing every day. Your name always on the tip of my tongue and the edge of my memory. There's a biting cold that reaches my bones and a shiver trapped deep in my veins. Food tastes all the same with no one to share it with. It's as if the world shudders with every breath I take. I miss you beyond description, but reality is far too big for just two people. |
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| (no subject) |
[Mar. 18th, 2012|01:27 am] |
Maybe if you were here my fingers wouldn't be all bleeding, or my heart wouldn't beat so slow. I could write books about the way your fingertips twitch when you're having a bad dream; the way your lips curl in your sleep when i say something to please you. I couldn't have dreamt it better. this alchemy is bright and throbbing, like an addiction-- the pull of a smile, the twists in my chest. There are nights where the headboard becomes a tombstone. i've stayed up and waxed poetic about the ocean and Europe more times than i care to remember, and seen more 6:13 sunrises than i dare to forget. Until my limbs hum and shiver. im not sure i'll ever be enough to fill your shadow. I'll dream in the night in time with the staccato of your heartbeat & deny every morning. the way we fight makes my blood sing.
here are my promises: we'll love like we invented it. i'll empty my pockets of stones shaped like hip joints and clavicles. i'll invent myself from stolen days and afternoons; i will see stars when you say my name and forget the shell of who you were.
Youre the warm, gentle shade of black I see behind my eyelids. Your eyes are blue like flames that i could never forget. |
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| dear little world, |
[Feb. 19th, 2012|04:50 am] |
i haven't meant to neglect you. it's just that notebooks and typewriters can be much prettier.
love |
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| (no subject) |
[Jan. 23rd, 2012|12:21 am] |
thawed out heart
vibrating through my ribcage, kicking in my chest
hanging underneath my clothes
it's a storm; all twisted inside and wrecked
i'll stay until night falls around us
and the world moves fast as i hold onto this moment
your cheekbones like weapons
hard blues a pair of loyal Bedroom eyes
and i'd steal you back from the sandman
to press bruises;
fingers chasing circles on your skin
it feels like coming home, it feels like the sun coming out again,
like you're the new breathing
like maybe the history books forgot about us
like "maybe, we were designed to fit like this"
there was the dusty pink of the sky
and the amber of your eyelashes
and circles the color of bruised plums under your eyes
it's about knowing how to dream through the dust;
how to outrun the rhymes and rhythms that are chasing me
but i,
i dreamt of the sweat on your neck, the bumps of your spine, the shadow of you under a blanket
i dreamt of watching you burn and the smell of charred flesh
where each step away made it just a little easier to breathe
whispered a prayer that sounded like your name
and wondered whether on your face
were stars or freckles |
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| (no subject) |
[Jan. 10th, 2012|12:15 am] |
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why bother when all ill ever be is crazy |
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| (no subject) |
[Jan. 3rd, 2012|08:51 pm] |
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i'm sick of the yelling and screaming, over the phone and across the house, and i don't know what to do when you crawl into my bed at night, desperate and sad; i never have. i'm not supposed to be the one to take care of you. i don't know how. i don't know how. |
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| (no subject) |
[Dec. 23rd, 2011|07:42 am] |
I read until the words were imprinted inside my eyelids, and my heart stuttered on command. Sometimes I wish you weren't in love with me just for your own sake because I'm so batshit insane. Because as much as I always do forget, this thing never goes away. It gnaws away at me while I'm distracted until I bring down everyone around me. And I don't want that to be you. Never you.
And then there's the fact that it's 7:42am and never mind all the years that have passed and all that's changed, I still can't sleep, I still can't sleep, I still can't sleep |
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| bleed you dry |
[Dec. 11th, 2011|03:53 am] |
they try to remove me from you like a rotten tooth
rotten to the core, all my life
but you have teeth in rows like sawblades
that leave marks on my pillows
i catalogue every last bit of you:
pale like a giant mood ring
with lashes all dark, fluttering like moths
you:
cross the room to my side, my side, to
hang across the wall like a ghost
touch my face like no one's ever seen me before
make me breathe like i'm drowning
leave me feeling like someone just shoved my insides off a cliff
have a dozen opinions,
not one of them your own
are the one to come home for
rattle my eardrums and sting my skin like the rain
stand out like the sun
and make my days brighter when everything else conspires to dim them
are who i seem to orbit around now
leave me so lonely my gums ache.
i:
don't know what you want from me;
i don't have anything.
would burn everything for this
look for all the things the camera cannot quite capture
practice stories inside my eyelids
make your heart boom like a sound effect on stage
fold into you until i smell like that, too
read you like braille
fizz and catch behind your navel
sputter apologies in your too-hot ears
stare at the window without a speck of care what's beyond it
don't need a window anyway when it feels like sunlight all around me
won't go home until i bring the sun back with me.
the:
sun doesn't rise without you here
voice in my head is the teacher who never liked me
world is hushed and waiting
past, present, and potential all muddled
it's like we've become two puzzle pieces that no longer fit.
it's like the world starts and ends with you.
like muddy dreams
where my lips are always joined in the first letter of your name
it's like you're an amplifier
skin warm, fingers scored bloody, shocks of long eyelashes. eyes hot.
like i'm a straw-haired doll, over the moon with you
like a stuttering trend
bound to die out sooner or later
like you put your fist right through me
like we grew too big for the world around us
like we're both kind of unhinged;
relieved to have something to find fault with.
it's like the inevitable rabbit hole,
which'll lead to a heartbreak as violent as the love. |
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| (no subject) |
[Oct. 31st, 2011|01:22 am] |
we are a venn diagram
a b c, i'm a (of course)
you are my b
we used to overlap a whole lot more
soon enough when our c is bigger again
a will equal b will equal c
police sirens on repeat
all night and i keep wondering
whether they're coming for you and me
if they are, is it a warning to slow down
or a "pull over, get out of the vehicle"
a stick-'em-up situation
or have we not reached that point
--yet?
you inhale
and every breath i planned on taking leaves me,
because everything i have belongs
moreso to you, than to me, now.
breathe into my freckled ear
so i can hear that you still love me
(please always love me)
i won't be, i can't be
a wish-it-were or might-have-been |
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| (no subject) |
[Oct. 12th, 2011|11:47 pm] |
on the concrete,
you stick out a cigarette
ask me if i have a light
i figure the torch i carry for you
qualifies;
light you up.
we are the simple living of
hiking up steep staircases
and gnawing on each others' necks
and
surviving the paradox of sleep
as we lay our heads in separate beds.
ankles just touching, i
feel me telling myself to wake up--
for the bedroom's uncharted
carpet overgrown
and there's something wicked in the way your neck tendons
pull.
i take the helm, and make my lists:
of all the things you say too much
of turnstiles we've skipped
of want
there's not much on any of them
you're ready to jettison either way
because i'm
pavlov, you're the dog
and again at night, when it comes
(as it will)
there's a crack in your smile that says you wake the dead wherever you go
as you, again, turn the camera on me
and i, again
argue,
"the lens accuses me of things i don't want to be" |
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| (no subject) |
[Sep. 23rd, 2011|10:34 pm] |
so i guess this happens about every month now. every time it's like here goes nothing (ha)
i wake up on a bus instead of in hell
or the ground, or heaven, or a big wooden box
and i think, ok. so that one didn't work.
it's the worst kind of waking up
cracking knuckles til my limbs go numb
mind filled with inked calluses and library desks
but don't turn my heart into a weapon
you jumped ship before we were sinking
I want stars.
And it's no surprise your sweatshirt still smells like you.
Let's keep it that way.
Been a while since I've had the bittersweet taste of acid in my throat
And when the bruises fade, i won't want them to
Hunched forward like you carry more weight than you really do.
Every other weekend isn't much when every other second consumes my brain |
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| (no subject) |
[Sep. 15th, 2011|01:34 am] |
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If I were a poet, this all would be a metaphor for something greater. Then again, if I were a poet, seroquel would be the answer to these doldrums. I can't say anything that I haven't thought before (i.e. the difference between plausible and paranoia: the number of roman candles in your fist). We're two sides of the same coin, stopped at an impasse - don't go to jail, but certainly don't pass "go." An anthology in retrograde. It's the labyrinth where Beauty is the Beast; where the only Camelot is outdoing yourself. You were a renegade who couldn't live with/out it, ducking out from the start. There's nothing sad about a mercenary with dead eyes and a shattered chest. |
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| (no subject) |
[Aug. 22nd, 2011|12:38 am] |
nostalgia tastes like your name.
its weird. read stuff from a couple years ago last night (this morning, see: 4am) & while i dont crave the attention/acceptance as much anymore, i forgot how many people i used to mean something to. and it feels like a lot less now.
either way i guess conversations will die but the music always lives.
we strive for bloody knuckles and no fingernails
and things that don't matter until they do
until you can feel me tremble all theway to the bones
they're called bad habits for a reason
(:because they inject themselves into your veins
and they dont care
whowhatwherewhy you are)
i have nothing to give. nothing to give. nothing but fingers woven hard in sheets
I'm freaking out about something; i can tell because i have zits (i don't get zits) and can't eat and it hurts to inhale and my stomach muscles can do nothing but clench.
Goals: to not open my fucking mouth unless it;s important
Its hard to leave my bed again but this time physically; i don't know. I just don't know. And i suck at swallowing pills.
Goal: everything in my head to also be on paper.
I'm more in love with this than i thought I'd be. Whenever i drive this car i feel like i don't know where I'm going. And i gotta slow down at the curves. I miss my jeans and shoes. Summer's just not my thing.
(Yyour feet are rooted to the ground and you know this; and you keep trying to escape from that, but
they've always been that way, haven't they. You knew that.)
and, the rain always goes before im ready for it to. |
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| (no subject) |
[Aug. 18th, 2011|02:42 am] |
Last night I awoke to Peter Pan watching me from my window.
"Sorry," he said, upon my awakening, "I thought you were a child."
"So did I," I told him.
"Well, are you?" he asked.
I said, "That depends."
"Well," he said, frowning, "do you have a job?"
"I spew bullshit," I explained. I was joking but not really.
He looked a little impressed. "And that gets you enough money?"
"Hey man," I said, getting a little defensive, "how much money does saving Lost Boys earn you?"
"Huh," he said, "I guess you're right."
I had another question to ask him but I fell back asleep, and in the morning he wasn't there watching anymore. |
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| (no subject) |
[Aug. 15th, 2011|11:51 pm] |
there are paint fumes flooding my nose
flooding the continent
and there aren't enough letters in the alphabet or words in the
dictionary for what this really is
i disguise the smell again and again
in the same way that sometimes i convince myself that
i don't need sleep
(but i do)
brain's been on short-circuit so i
left the front door unlocked
and you left me high and dry
my life continues not to change
i'm a rough draft
you're a pretend kid
and every time it rains
it washes days from your skin
til you're abhominal & inhuman
and i try and forget you ever existed
but who are you kidding really
you miss the feeling of my lungs working next to your lungs
and the tiny pins in your heart
and the lopsided smiles
and dilated pupils
and golden leaves and glints of wood
and i know;
it hurts like a toothache
like a dull throb you barely recognize
and you feel like a taut string,
pulled and stretched from trying so hard to relax.
and i just miss
feeling like
i don't need to die to stop feeling down. |
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| oneword 8/8/11: brick |
[Aug. 9th, 2011|01:23 am] |
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you're the brick in the middle of my chest and the one at the bottom of my lungs, weighing them down while they fill with water. you're also the brick used to build the house around me. and i hate that. |
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| im really really off lately. like, completely |
[Aug. 6th, 2011|01:48 am] |
Wishing i could catch your eye instead of a cold
(Or a smile instead of on fire)
i am your iv
and i'm not brave enough to leave you behind.
I'm trying to be more than one person here
So far it's not working out |
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| oneword 8/5/11: lock |
[Aug. 6th, 2011|01:07 am] |
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lockjaw, locked doors and locking eyes to not know what’s going on beneath them. |
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| oneword 8/4/11: manager |
[Aug. 4th, 2011|08:21 pm] |
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a manager to manage her. a manger to lay her head in. and some air for her to breathe. icantevenbreatheanymore all i can do today is listen to the smiths and hope |
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| And now i know better. |
[Aug. 3rd, 2011|11:02 am] |
Tore my own heart out last night
Ate it and
Now there's nothing left
They sewed a new one in but its the wrong one;
This ones made of plastic,
And you won't hear anything when you press your ear to my chest (not that you would.)
Just the mechanical buzz of the stereo that's been on all.night.long.
Chewed a hole right through my lip
I just need to learn to breathe again
Haven't slept since sunday. These sleeping pills are good for shit.
Whenever depression returns i welcome it back as an old friend; arms open wide like i've been waiting. There's always a room for it to rent out. And it can stay however long it wants.
The things i prayed for the most were to fall asleep, and to not dream when i did. And for those 5 seconds of complete disillusionment when i woke up to last for much, much longer.
I could've brought you sunshine.
I'd've gotten you the moon.
And then there's today. Everything is just kind of surreal today. I didn't know I'd be back here. Really though, i didn't know much to begin with
Eat your stupid fake heart out
Posted via m.livejournal.com. |
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| oneword 8/2/11: boiling |
[Aug. 3rd, 2011|01:38 am] |
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there’s something always boiling under the surface; hidden beneath just far enough away where you can’t see it- but so you can feel it. so you can know it’s watching you and heating up everytime you come near. and everytime you touch. sun’s got nothing on you (nothing) |
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| oneword 8/1/11: root |
[Aug. 2nd, 2011|01:25 am] |
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the root of all things is where you stand; the root of me is your eyelashes in the light and the root of the trees in the night is your shoelace when it comes untied. don’t let me uproot you but let me, just let me love you. the root of all things is where you stand. |
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| to all my insomniacs, |
[Aug. 2nd, 2011|01:24 am] |
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Close your lashes like shutters til you're asleep. & pretend you're holding a hand that's not your own |
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| (no subject) |
[Jul. 29th, 2011|06:40 pm] |
Wait This Time will be available to order online within the next 24-48 hours! In 2-3 months, it will also be available in other online stores (Amazon, Barnes & Noble, etc). I’ll post links to where you can buy it once they’re available. Thanks so much for all the support <3
http://www.facebook.com/pages/Alyssa-Moore/136809219702518 |
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| (no subject) |
[Jul. 28th, 2011|01:44 am] |
Once you're out of my way
(you're not tough enough anyway)
I'll skin and eat you alive
What they say
Won't hold a candle to you any day
I will claim your insides
The difference between 2 and 4 hours is enormous
but there is always a Star burning in the sky |
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| (no subject) |
[Jul. 24th, 2011|01:50 am] |
i waited hrs
i'd fall asleep with your headphones on forever.
my hrt beats faster in my chest than i can ever remember
everywhere i look i see it
blueblueblueblueblue
and a kid too smart for his own good
who wonders what it looks like frm the outside. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jul. 14th, 2011|12:58 am] |
things i want back: how you love(d?) your city. your records. the van that's crumpled and dead now. tracing the tattoos on your arms in whatever back room there was. sleeping with our heads on each side of the door; listening to your heartbeat through the covers- not knowing if youd come back. you were never always back. i still want your songs and your words. i want whatever it takes to make it happen. throwing shoes at me & screaming & pulling out hair and laughing at the way youll do anything for a camera.for a little bit of attention. your journals. things strewn everywhere and not having to care. the few kids that always stuck around, goofing off on rooftops and hanging from the rafters when we could. setting off bottle rockets in the night. wishing everything was better than it was.
i can only write for you; you're the only way i could to begin with. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jul. 14th, 2011|12:49 am] |
i hate missing the way you felt. and knowing that you laid in your room, slipped notes under the door; didnt come out for ages & then some and in my head it's dark for you but i dont know how it really is now. the only thing that can get me going. i need caffeine at 12am to even think anymore. (it isnt what it used to be.) and it takes guts to build bone, they say, but youwerealwaysmyfavorite. i like the bang of your heart- mine can only slap wetly against my ribcage.
and ive seen many shades of gray. fire licking up your spine until your cheeks stained pink. wanna crack your head open and burst ur heart. always a nightly symphony until im asleep, then just dreams of twisted melted burning metal. like the blind leading the blind.
it's always hot breath. still got miles to go. please - please, just let me know. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jul. 11th, 2011|01:10 am] |
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rejection hurts. i need tougher skin. |
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| i can't describe with words |
[Jul. 8th, 2011|01:01 am] |
how much i love you
how much i want to be with you forever
how blue your eyes are
& what i see in them
how much i miss you always, always
when i'm not right next to you
how i know, know
because i just do |
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| (no subject) |
[Jun. 30th, 2011|02:00 am] |
where are you/cause i'm at your door
no surprise that your phone goes to voicemail
but each time hurts a bit more.
good lord, please send help.
head always screwed too tight/not tight enough |
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| (no subject) |
[Jun. 13th, 2011|10:41 pm] |
like most things do, it happened in passing.
i sat cross-legged in your room that night, ear pressed to your stereo, hitting repeat over and over until every chord and lyric was pressed into my memory.
the days get longer as the nights get shorter, and that’s all just fine with me.
most of all you're on my mind. you're always, always on my mind.
i hate when you aren't smiling- like the sun melts away or goes on vacation.
time passes, like it does.
and we all know most things happen in passing. |
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| it's all in the footnotes |
[Jun. 13th, 2011|12:24 am] |
godgodgod i hate rereading things i've written in the past.
easier to breathe with your head in the sand
gasoline drowning yyour lungs
and "minutes like glaciers" as it was poetically put
I laid awake at night and dreamt of skies that weren't blue
And of faces that weren't you
all week long
you hung me out to dry
so that by the bruised morning i'd forgotten you were some dumb teddy boy
bonnie to your clyde, jekyll to your hyde (etc.etc.)
and all the misfits had bedroom eyes..
man i just want some melatonin. |
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| (no subject) |
[May. 25th, 2011|05:25 pm] |
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Everytime you drove by the house was a heart attack; every sound in thenight was your fingers on the window and your voice in my ear. Like a graveyard of sorts. i dont remember where I kept the telephone cord wrapped but it was unplugged anyway, the dial tone blaring like an “in-your-face” and the machine on repeat with no messages, no messages. I’m atomic. Covers swallowing me for days with you never knocking onmy door, never knowing where I was and me wondering if you cared enough to wonder. the windowpane will hold on to my memories tonight. Each crack in the wall stuffed so no one can see in this far to what I don’t want them knowing. Or What I don’t want to know myself. Evry single part of me is in half, now: one arm, one leg, one shoe. Half a heart, half a brain to know what I,m saying half the time. Five fingers to count every time you dont come abck when you said you would. Idontknowwhyistillexpectit. A hell of a lot more holes on my insides to make up for it all. Andno one to tell it all to. God. I wont beg. But every time you drive by the house is a heartattack and every sound in the night is your fingers, your voice, your name.\ |
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| dear alice |
[May. 10th, 2011|07:44 pm] |
ativan dreams
of a white-knuckled ride in a too-fast car
you're a kid playing dress up
and i'm too sharp around the edges for you to hold onto
preach back to the hypocritical priest
find the document known as "cut pages in diary"
only to change it to "all the things you do wrong"
will you still be angry when i wake up?
wallflower with a smile so bright it makes me wonder why anyone else bothers to smile at all. |
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| little lamb |
[May. 4th, 2011|09:19 pm] |
it's scary how fast 60 tablets go by
and maybe scarier knowing youre on your own in the morning
the cops can surround your house but when it comes down to it,
no one can save you from what's inside your head
when i think of you i cant think of anyone else
groundbreaking how thinking of it makes my throat hurt
and my memory ache
for assurance that the past might not be the past anymore;
although no one's known to be found dead of insomnia |
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| (no subject) |
[Apr. 28th, 2011|10:44 pm] |
Restless in nosebleed seats
I'm an engine without oil
Perfectly miserable- they say Its ok to be lonely
But what do you do when every body has somebody but you? |
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| (no subject) |
[Apr. 15th, 2011|12:24 am] |
it's the difference between "once upon a time" and "the end"
as shaky as your faith
but a smile to keep the city powered
make something come undone inside me
so afraid i cant see straight
small acts that are worth fighting for anyway
giving you hollow eyes from the nights you stay up
catalog the feel of your hand in mine
like the road, you'll stretch my bones- make them timeless
never set me free
and i'll wake up shaking
we'll both wake up, shaking |
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| "in another life" |
[Apr. 9th, 2011|12:13 am] |
My heart is a magnet, drawn to you
keeps me warm atnight
For the love of all that loves me back
Make me crawl across broken glass for it
Can't track my shadow without the sun
Like stepping out of your body
imprint of you on my skin
Youre home base
pushing my ribs til they hurt & til they ache
If I never knew you
id still be just as gone over you
If there was a pill for every voice
There wouldn't be nearly enough medication |
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| you come too |
[Apr. 6th, 2011|10:12 pm] |
I hate your bedroom eyes
I hate the tilt of your hips
And your smoke rings
(the very smell burns my insides)
not nameless, and certainly not faceless
But an Acidic smell
carrying on through the air to you-
it will find you
with an obsessive desire to set things to fire
Pyromaniacs, rescuing what's left
so trim your Wings before you come, too |
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fakepoet's journal