gotta get it out before the buzzing stops and i am deafened by my thoughts falling heart attack numb inside my head where you dance with her so fucking ugly from the inside out stained and broken dirty little puppets without any secrets without any substance your worthless words falling on my wish they were deaf ears if only you knew where i've been finding comfort lately..

i think that being in love with you
should be a diagnosable mental disorder.

let's turn it on, turn it out
forget where i've been
what i've tasted
no matter how close it is
i think we should dance
i think we should drive
into walls, into the ocean,
into something that feels like something
you should've been there
when he touched me
but i'm glad you weren't.

this is all just cables over miles
of avoidance
distraction to delay reflection
numbers that don't translate to breathing
life in 2 dimensions
touch without skin, without thought
these things crash for a reason

courtship in zeroes and ones
back burners still warm might someday burn your flesh to peeling
why was i the one put to silver?
i can't pretend naivete and i've never been a very good liar
razorblade syllables, poetry of memory
lets have a drink and make some more.

this conversation is stale
this cunt could kill you
just give it a minute
give it a reason
get lost get dead get inside
ruin ruin ruin
sweat and lies and pretending
sweet and tangling and choking we can scream until we can't sing
we can share these scars but in selfishness we will hide on
miles of tape and promise
i never looked
not once.

the only thing he sees in her eyes is his reflection
but he will not reflect
too busy building and breaking
praying to no one i believe in
for 7 years bad luck
a reason to be grieving
create
to dismantle
in fiery theories he will show eyes closed tight
another her whos hands he can use to block out any light.

it's a gift to be able to hold a beer and a cigarette in one hand and partake of both without hurting yourself. at least not in the immediate sense. and to be able to feel music instead of just hearing it. these are things i know. i may not know a better half, or any half really...i can keep telling myself i'm ok with that. but i'm not. and enough years have passed for hopelessness to have rightly set in. maybe i can be ok with THAT. maybe that guy was right, maybe losing all hope really is freedom.
sometimes i miss being 16 and drinking 40's of st. ides behind the dumpster at the Rat and sleeping in a car outside some guys house. i miss simpler times when getting a tooth knocked out at a blood for blood show was something to write home about. when all i had to look forward to was another friday night with another band whos singer sounded like cookie monster..when everything didn't mean so much because all we had was time, and nothing to live for. less climbing inside my head, getting lost, distractions are harder to come by now, and needed more than ever. so on a monday, i guess i'll just get fuzzy..

what is this?
it's catharsis!
if you've got it to give i'll swallow it whole
i know these themes are recurrent
redundant
but i'm barely holding on or not at all
and i find freedom in violation
i have not hit bottom yet