I'm dead I'm dead I'm mother fucking dead
Like you took an AK47 shot me in the head
and I bleed, with it you painted the town red
I'm dead I'm dead I'm mother fucking dead
Monday, August 22, 2011
Bitter
Bitter beginnings meet bitter ends
I call you my lover; I called you my friend
Bitter touches and bitter looks
Proclaiming love no matter what it took
Bitter taste inside my mouth
I'm a bird locked up, I can't fly south
Bitter this, that, and the other
I called you my sister, and I your brother.
I call you my lover; I called you my friend
Bitter touches and bitter looks
Proclaiming love no matter what it took
Bitter taste inside my mouth
I'm a bird locked up, I can't fly south
Bitter this, that, and the other
I called you my sister, and I your brother.
Friday, August 12, 2011
DEAD DEAD DEAD
I cried to you in red, against arms so pale.
Now I am a prisoner in a proverbial jail.
Please bring me the coffin, I brought the nail.
We have known tragedies on a colossal scale.
I am the one who turned the rivers so red.
I am the one who will raise you from the dead.
I do not care for what any of them said.
I do not believe in DEAD DEAD DEAD!
I remember the words you spoke to me.
Softly like a stream running so free.
I wish I could remember what it is like to be
Anything other than trapped by thee!
I wish I could run away from all of this.
I wish anyone would care about what I wish.
I hear their mother fucking jokes and bliss.
NONE of us can run away from deaths sweet kiss!
If you told me once you've told me twice.
I will never get out of this twisted vice.
We are insignificant and lowly as mice.
If life is a game of chance I won't roll the dice.
I am the one who turned the rivers so red.
I, I will be blamed that you are dead.
I no longer care for what any of them said.
I do not believe in DEAD DEAD DEAD!
I remember every single second of passion.
I knew I should have stopped that chain reaction.
I know nothing in the ways of satisfaction.
I stood idly and watched your heart fraction.
As we get close to the end, I can only say this.
I can wish all day, it won't mean shit.
Situations like this are either hit or miss.
I want to go looking for deaths fucking kiss!
Now I am a prisoner in a proverbial jail.
Please bring me the coffin, I brought the nail.
We have known tragedies on a colossal scale.
I am the one who turned the rivers so red.
I am the one who will raise you from the dead.
I do not care for what any of them said.
I do not believe in DEAD DEAD DEAD!
I remember the words you spoke to me.
Softly like a stream running so free.
I wish I could remember what it is like to be
Anything other than trapped by thee!
I wish I could run away from all of this.
I wish anyone would care about what I wish.
I hear their mother fucking jokes and bliss.
NONE of us can run away from deaths sweet kiss!
If you told me once you've told me twice.
I will never get out of this twisted vice.
We are insignificant and lowly as mice.
If life is a game of chance I won't roll the dice.
I am the one who turned the rivers so red.
I, I will be blamed that you are dead.
I no longer care for what any of them said.
I do not believe in DEAD DEAD DEAD!
I remember every single second of passion.
I knew I should have stopped that chain reaction.
I know nothing in the ways of satisfaction.
I stood idly and watched your heart fraction.
As we get close to the end, I can only say this.
I can wish all day, it won't mean shit.
Situations like this are either hit or miss.
I want to go looking for deaths fucking kiss!
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Fistful of Razors
Save yourself with bleeding wrist.
Thought I'd never see the end of this.
I watched, dazed, as angels fell.
And made stupid jokes about heaven and hell.
The problem is I don't feel real.
Sold my soul, got a shitty deal.
All my life I've been told.
Morals can be bought and sold.
Ethics! Ethics? You fed me with that bullshit.
Every fucking day, and what did I get!?
A fistful of razors and an arm so distraught.
All because I fixated on what I was taught.
To be grateful for something.
I would give anything.
To feel something.
I would give everything.
17 years and now I dont care.
Could say it's sacrifice but I wouldn't dare.
After 4 years of poorly constructed suicide letters.
You'd think I would get somewhat better.
One day the scars will start to fade.
Good thing I made some yesterday.
Scars that stay will be reminders.
Sometimes we can't get much blinder.
-----------------------------------------------
This poem is about when my friend Angie (Angel) died.
I could not believe someone so strong, so resilient, so young, could have her life just end. I did not come to terms with it till many years after the fact. I simply couldn't. The part about morals and ethics is me being disapointed in myself, and doctors, for not doing everything that could be done to save her. I blame myself for her death. I never cried, I couldn't, I have not shed a single tear since her life ended so many years ago. When I start thinking about her, and not being able to cry, I cut. I feel I deserve some punishment for what I did to her. I wish it was my life and not hers that was taken. I deserve mine a lot less.
Thought I'd never see the end of this.
I watched, dazed, as angels fell.
And made stupid jokes about heaven and hell.
The problem is I don't feel real.
Sold my soul, got a shitty deal.
All my life I've been told.
Morals can be bought and sold.
Ethics! Ethics? You fed me with that bullshit.
Every fucking day, and what did I get!?
A fistful of razors and an arm so distraught.
All because I fixated on what I was taught.
To be grateful for something.
I would give anything.
To feel something.
I would give everything.
17 years and now I dont care.
Could say it's sacrifice but I wouldn't dare.
After 4 years of poorly constructed suicide letters.
You'd think I would get somewhat better.
One day the scars will start to fade.
Good thing I made some yesterday.
Scars that stay will be reminders.
Sometimes we can't get much blinder.
-----------------------------------------------
This poem is about when my friend Angie (Angel) died.
I could not believe someone so strong, so resilient, so young, could have her life just end. I did not come to terms with it till many years after the fact. I simply couldn't. The part about morals and ethics is me being disapointed in myself, and doctors, for not doing everything that could be done to save her. I blame myself for her death. I never cried, I couldn't, I have not shed a single tear since her life ended so many years ago. When I start thinking about her, and not being able to cry, I cut. I feel I deserve some punishment for what I did to her. I wish it was my life and not hers that was taken. I deserve mine a lot less.
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