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

there is an anchor.
i am hopeless, but she is not. all my hope is for her. i was lost a long time ago.
i can't decide if it's worse for her to end up like this, being able to SEE, or being a sheep. sheep seem happier, ignorance really does seem to be bliss. sometimes i wish i knew.
instead i want to crash. and i am, just not all at once.
i want to know what it's like to be free.
how far do i have to fall before i know?
i don't envy them anymore. not too much. i've walked in on your lie, seen it myself. all of you have them. and if that's how it's supposed to be, i guess i really don't want it. i don't want to be another complaint, another reason to not have faith. another mistake you can frame and curse and blame.
count me out.

rally legs!

for a long time now, i've accepted the fact that i am going to be single forever. there are times when this has made me sad, or angry, and times when i have enjoyed the freedom in it.
what i realize now, however, is that i probably will not be. i am kind of a kickass girl, and at some point, i will finally meet an equally kickass dude, and we will hang out, listening to the misfits, baking pies, and doing the nasty.
so here's the thing. if you would like to be considered for the role of my kickass dude, there are certain things you will have to deal with. they're not unreasonable, and it will be more than worth it to be in my company. one of the most important things you will have to learn to live with is RALLY LEGS!
i am kind of a big sports fan. especially baseball, namely the boston red sox. while it is not imperative that you be a sports fan, you must be able to understand my fanaticism. you are not required to watch baseball with me, but you may not give me any shit about my watching it. i am not to be disturbed during any games except in an emergency, and in the postseason, don't bother me at all. the postseason is generally where RALLY LEGS! come into play.
during the 2004 alcs, when my beloved red sox were down 3 games to 0, for no particular reason, the day of game 4, i didn't shave my legs. if we had lost that game, we would've been done and the evil yankees would've gone to the world series. well, many extra innings, much nailbiting, and we won. we stayed in it. red sox fans are known for being painfully optimistic, and very superstitious. so, it was clear to me that my leg stubble had something to do with us winning, and therefore i did not shave my legs for the rest of the alcs. we won, we went to the world series. swept the cardinals in 4 games, during which i also had wookie legs. my disgustingly fuzzy legs helped break an 86 year curse. every year since, when the sox are down, the razor is abandoned, and it generally seems to help.
so, if you are man enough to deal with RALLY LEGS!, then maybe you are man enough to deal with me. and because i am a nice person, i will generally invest in cute knee socks during times where RALLY LEGS! are necessary so you don't actually have to touch them.

*none of this applies to yankee fans, as i will never ever touch you.