5-12-09
So you take your insides
and you thrust them through my chest,
I feel, I feel everything,
It gets to be too much, my chest is melting
from the inside tears…

I don’t cry, no, but it hurts,
I don’t make a sound but inside I,
inside I feel it all, I just don’t let it show,
I don’t cry no, but what kills you,
kills me too.

So I take your tears and I
insert into my eyes and that’s how I cry,
I feel, I feel everything,
When it’s too much, I force myself to melt
cut my arms wide…

I don’t cry, no, but it hurts,
I don’t make a sound but inside I,
inside I feel it all, I just don’t let it show,
I don’t cry, no, but what kills you,
kills me too.

So I take you and adopt your pain,
I throw myself into it and I,
I feel, I feel everything
you feel and more,
When it’s too much I start to cry,
When it’s too much I start to bleed,
I can feel my shoulders sinking…
so slow.

I don’t cry, no, but it hurts, (like hell),
I don’t make inside but inside I (scream),
Inside I feel it all, I just don’t let it show (on my face),
I don’t cry, no but what kills you (hurts you)
kills me too.

4-12-09

The world is not running from you,
You are running from the world,
Just remember that.
Do you even know what it feels like to just
sit still for a second?

Your feet are p-p-p-pumping
Like lightening, you’re like the flash,
r-r-r-running for miles and miles,
The d-d-dust flies behind you,
Blinds your enemy but your friends too,
Was that intentional? They ask, dumbstruck.

You are running rings round the world,
But never ever stopping
for sight-seeing.
Don’t you have the urge to look at beautiful
landscapes at all??

Your feet are p-p-p-pumping
Like lightning, you’re like the flash,
r-r-r-running for miles and miles,
The d-d-dust flies behind you,
Blinds your enemy but your friends too,
Was that iintentional? They ask, dumbstruck.

Whoa, whoa just a blue bit of wind,
Hands grab at nothing but air,
But scream ‘why are you running so fast?’
“Well, so I can get away, get away from…
Hell, I forget but it sure looked scary”,
But you’re just circling the world,
Avoiding life like the plague,
And your feet are burning away.

Your feet are b-b-b-burning,
Hell kid, they are giving off steam,
You need to s-s-slow down,
Covering up your past with dust,
Blinds your enemy but yourself too,
I know you hate yourself, intentionally…

But kid, clear you eyes won’t you,
Halt to a stop for a minute and look around.

3+4-12-09
You know that moment when the superhero
says something real bloody noble like
‘you should be with him, he’s safe, I am troublesome’
or cuts your heart with a ‘I don’t love you’ but its all for
her own protection.
This is a little like that except I am the villain
who just wishes she was a hero.
I am the villain just wishing like Hell I could be a hero.

3-12-09
I stand at the pearl white gates,
(Naturally) they don’t open for me,
I get flashback of train tracks,
I scream.
I’m so sorry, I just didn’t want to die
alone,
I don’t even want in, I just want Him
to bleep me out of e-e-existence.
Please.

1-12-09
And oh, fingers, please,
bend and break, stop writing
for just a minute, please.
aching fingers and burning knuckles,
I crack and stretch them after every line,
And oh, fingers, please,
you’ve been writing too much lately,
It’s never a good sign,
Tells me your peace of mind
is still standing on that ledge,
that you can’t view from here.
And oh, fingers please,
give me a break, or write
something worthwhile,
for once, please,
make someone understand.

1-12-09
I cannot imagine what was going through your mind
to spit out such a bitter, bitter line.
I cannot imagine how you could think it up,
such a hurtful, messed up lie

that showed me you’ll never get it,
understand what you mean to me,
don’t even bother to attempt,
you’ll never get it, understand it.

I cannot imagine what was going through that mind
to spit out such a bitter, bitter line.
I cannot imagine how you could that,
such an (unintentional) lie.

Did you know even know you were lying?
And is lying if you think you’re telling the truth?

1-12-09

We never really fight but we never kiss either,
at least never with meaning,
And we smile at each other and hold hands,
But we both know there’s nothing really there,
‘Cause I am craving someone else,
And you are happy to live a lie.
Would it hurt you to know
you’re not the only one I dream about at night?
Would it hurt you to know
that being with you is just a way of killing time?

I know you’ve heard me screaming her name,
but you block your ears,
and you somehow, still manage to cast me smiles,
And hold my head tight when I’m crying,
But would you hold me if you
knew I was crying over her?

Would it hurt you to know
you’re not the only one I dream about at night?
Would it hurt you to know
that being with you is just a way of killing time?

Or maybe…Hang on, just maybe, this’ll work…

Would it relieve you to know
you’re not the only one I dream about at night?
Would it relieve you to know
that being with you is just a way of killing time?

Let me know if this works,
I’ll leave this out for you, so accidently,
When I pack my bags and I run away,
Don’t you worry, I’ll never be happy,
I don’t want you as much as she doesn’t want me,
So don’t you worry, I’ll never be happy,
But thanks for, thanks for killing a few months with me.

I’ll send you a postcard from hell, baby.

1-12-09
You know when someone moulds their lips
preparing their words – you see it in their eyes
and you see their tongue – a potential weapon
start to propel and the air winds up and those lips
get ready to tell…

Wait. Stop. Rewind. What the hell did you just say?
I’ll press pause, rewind, play, pause, rewind, play.
I turn the volume up full blast and place my ear
right next to the speaker. Pause, rewind, play,
pause, rewind, play. I press zoom upon your eyes,
Could you really mean those words your lips
just produced?

You know when someone’s thinking of what
to say and you see it in their furrowed brow,
And then it lifts and all the wrinkles fade and
you can see the thinking taking place even in the
shape of their mouth…

Wait. Stop. Rewind. Laugh, you’ve got to be kidding.
Pause, rewind, play, pause, rewind play, my god,
how my ear is killing me. Pause, rewind, play.
Pause, rewind, play, I’ve already memorized every,
every single word you said that hurt me. Could you
really mean them?

You know when someone’s about to push the air
out with their lips and create a lie with their voice
or even the truth can hurt just as much, but you
know that moment you see the air start to move
in front of their face and the sound is creeping…

And you just want to take that piece of air in your hands
and shove it right back down their throat, lean in close and whisper,
“Don’t say a fucking thing, I promise like hell you’ll regret it,
I promise.”

And now, you cannot take it back.
Even if you say you didn’t mean it.
You cannot take it back.
And I cannot glue the skin in place.
And we can’t take anything from the past back.
And how I wish…

And you can’t take anything back.

I do this thing where I sit on my bed,
or on a train, or as I walk the streets,
or eat my breakfast, or my lunch, or my tea,
Or as I lie there just trying to get some sleep,
Or as I try to hold steady a conversation…

where I list and loathe every mistake I
have ever made, and every stupid action
makes it way under the microscope and I
dwell on it, glued my eye to the glass,
Now I can’t pull myself away without
prying away my eye and god, it hurts,
and for every single mistake I remember,
I do this.

And to what result, to what consequence,
Only that of making me hate myself more than I
already did, only that of bashing myself up internally,
It would have happened anyway, now it just happens more harshly,
But I tell myself it doesn’t matter anyway and despite
the fact that I know I am the biggest liar, somehow I
let myself believe that my feelings don’t matter anyway.

1-12-09
The joke’s on those who use smiles
as umbrella’s, don’t they realize a frown
would suit much better?
You see if you’re always awaiting disappointment
you never really let yourself get your hopes up,
You can’t really be thrown too hard to the ground,
At least that was the theory…
That was the theory until…

I lay in a stretcher at “rock bottom”
Surrounded by flowing alcoholic waterfalls
that were blocked off and echoing so horribly
by all these boulders, I was at rock bottom
but the ground below me just keeps on breaking,
The joke’s on me…again.

Life is always throwing us challenges
and I always just shove ‘em in my pockets,
Deal with ‘em later.

You see if you procrastinate just enough,
You can kind of force yourself to forget what’s real,
And then you’re in a sacred place – escaped the world,
At least that was the theory…
That was the theory until…

I lay in a stretcher at “rock bottom”
Surrounded by flowing alcoholic waterfalls
that were blocked off and echoing so horribly
by all these boulders, I was at rock bottom
but the ground below just keeps on breaking,
The joke’s on me…again.

And you see, if you set yourself up for disappointment
you’re not really hardening your shell at all,
“Just painting the world in an unfair colour” some would say,
but how do you paint in a colour you’ve never even heard of?
And how do you recover from such a significant blow?

Defence turns into offence and protection falls away ‘cause it was never was,
And all this work to harden a shell but you don’t realize the shell has been breaking
right from the start and the more protection you offer the more it breaks
under all this, under all this weight.

5-12-09
I look back on all my work and figure out
I could not write a thing while you were near,
Took over my mind and my fingers too, I guess.

I can never let this go, I can never have this
taken from my fingertips, no
I think I would really suffer without this to lean on,
I express everything through this.

When my fingers stop working I start to get
a little panic start to build inside – oh, what if
I never write again, I get terrified, I guess.

I can never let this go, this can never be
extracted from my insides, no
I think I would really suffer without this to lean on,
I express only through this.

I express only through this.
This is my only outlet.
My only way…

3-12-09
Sitting, awaiting, allowed my mind to wander…

I am engulfed with the disgusting urge
to tackle a stranger right onto the tracks,
And whisper “I am so sorry” and yell over
the roar of the wind “I could not live
but I cannot die alone, Hell”, I scream,
“this is it” and I hold her in a protective
embrace ‘cause I never meant it to come to this.

I was a modest soul with a death grip hold,
And childish motivations put me in this situation,
“I don’t want to be alone, wah”,
Noble aspirations in a murder investigation.

Fear of what comes after drove me to this,
And I think we made a word just for situations
such as these ; that of irony.

25-11-09
Have you ever, ever felt so desperate
that you just go “well, I’ll just kill myself”
and as an alternative – plan b, “I’ll walk
around in the dark until someone murders me”,
Have you ever, ever felt that desperate?

I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, that feeling inside
like you are fighting uphill and not meant to survive,
Like there’s been a plan right from the start
and you were destined to carry so many scars
on your heart, like you were meant to feel alone
every second of every minute or every hour,
and there was nothing to do about it at all.

I wouldn’t wish this on anyone, keeping secrets,
so tight in between your teeth, and crushing
them, holding back your tongue with all your strength,
but you don’t feel strong, just incredibly weak,
you can’t stand still, your hands are always on the shake,
every second of every minute of every hour,
and there is nothing to do about this all.
I wouldn’t wish it away though, it’s all I know,
how else do people live, they must be so oblivious
that such a feeling can exist, where you feel so worthless,
so empty, so alone, so messed up inside
your very own head, your enemy.

And they could cut me, yes, they could cut me
wide open and separate my ribs, rifle through
my organs and dig, dig, dig,
but they won’t find an answer, not deep in there,
or not in my brain either so save yourself a waste of time,
you can’t find a physical memoir of feelings other than
the scars on my arms and over my body,
but this is me telling you how it feels to have that feeling
like you were never ever meant to survive,
and I’m telling you it is impossible to understand.

24-11-09
Your lips on my lips, can you feel me
shake? Your hands on my hips,
God, it’s so embarrassing just how much I’m shaking.
You do that thing with your tongue,
You let it creep in and I-I’m yours for the night.

‘Cause you know you do that thing
just so perfectly, swing your tongue like
a wrecking ball at my rationality,
And I-I’m yours for as long as you’ll take me.

Your hands on my hips, you try to
steady the shake they’re making.
And I’m going red from embarrassment but the lips
on my ears are making me red
from something, from something else.

‘Cause you know you do that thing
just so perfectly, swing your hand like
a wrecking ball at my rationality,
and i-I’m yours for as long as you’ll take me.

My body, your bed, your body
in between the sheets with me,
Did I ever, did I ever think the day’d come? No,
I didn’t, the light is blinding me, so you switch
it off, at least you can’t see the embarrassment
strewn across my face, and god, won’t anything
stop the shakes?

‘Cause you know you do that thing
just so perfectly, swing the drink
all over my impulsivity,
And I-I’m yours for as long as you’ll take me.

Will you take me for just a night?
Hell, do I have the guts to pray for longer?
Will you take me for another day?
Hell, do I have the guts to wish for more?

I’ve see, I’ve seen the way you dance,
And it creates a little friction,
And you look across that room and I see that grin
you grin when you know you just caught
your next victim. “Hey, hey kid, come on
over here, to the dance floor, let’s get nice
and close and in the morning, well, we’ll
just see, we’ll see” and I knew you’d
cast me, let me go.

‘Cause you know what you want
so well, so unlike me, so I scull,
and you say ‘kid, you had enough,
let’s make out, let’s make our way…’
And we make our way up the stairs,
So typical, you pull on my hand and I stumble
after you up the stairs, not caring about anything
but getting close to your body tonight,
One night or one year stand, doesn’t matter
right, right, right now.

24-11-09
L-l-lips on lips leads to hands on hips,
Could be so innocent if it was anyone else,
But hands on hips lead to bodies on bed sheets,
Could be so innocent if it was anyone else,
But b-b-bodies on bed sheets lead to wandering hands,
Getting into the grey area now aren’t we?
And wandering hands lead to muffled screams,
Yeah, I think this is a pretty dark shade of grey,
But if it weren’t you, it wouldn’t be anyone,
But if it were someone else, I’d left it at lips on lips.

But l-l-lips lead to hands on hips,
And hands on hips eventually lead to clasped hearts,
And clasped hearts come after clasped bodies,
Not quite the conventional order of things
but since when was this conventional?
We’re passing through the area of shades now,
Nice and quickly, way too quickly, went my heart,
‘Cause bodies in bed sheets led to mornings
with only pillows and regrets to keep me company.

L-l-lips led to hands on hips and hands on hips
led to a night and morning between the bedsheets,
And if it weren’t you, it wouldn’t be anyone,
But it’s the opposite for you,
If it weren’t’ me, it’d be whoever stood across the room,
If it weren’t you, it wouldn’t be anyone,
if it weren’t me, you’d crawl into someone else’s ear,
Bu do they like the ear thing as much as I do? cause
you got down-pat all the places to p-pat me in,
And get me…

L-lips can lead to hips but I should’ve formed words
before I jumped into bed with you first,
L-lips can find hips but I should’ve found conditions
before I let you continue your tradition,
Of wining , skip the dining and jump straight to the bedroom,
On one foot ‘cause the other is limp,
And just how much did I have to drink?
And just how sober are you?

You’re so used to this, just setting your alarm
nice and early and plugging in your earphones
when they fall asleep so you can wake up and
make your escape through the door before any
movement is happening and you never ever look back,
But now you’re looking back…

‘Cause lips on lips led to lips on hips, led to hands on
legs, and led to all that unspoken activity between
the mattress and the blanket and on the pillows,
And keep the noise quiet – ‘cause we’re not the only
people in this building…

But one night stands of lust turned to love,
And one night with you could never be enough,
And you pretended like you understood,
You thought that you could understand
A way that you’d never lived.

And now lips are reciting words and
there are so many shaking hips here, ‘cause
the absence of speech led to hearses,
And hearses led to tears and tear-stained
eulogies that were only delivered through sobs
and necessity.

“She saved herself for you”
And what did you do? Lips on lips, hands on hips,
Hands on hearts, and standing in respect,
And sweeping that hair out of her eyes like you’ve the right
but “You should have admitted it when she was alive”
And the fist hits you before the words,
And people are questioning who they feel more sorry for,
The girl lying dead in the hearse or the girl crying her heart
out on the bathroom floor, nursing a black eye,
but secretly wishing it would swell so bad so that she could
stop cursing her pathetic reflection,
And “I should’ve admitted it while she was alive,
And now I don’t think I could return to my old ways,
The tradition that got me here in the first place,
What good are lips and hips and hands and words
and hairs and strokes and beds and screams
if the person delivering doesn’t really mean a thing?
And hell, I wish this wasn’t a huge revelation…”

26-11-09
It’s only a lie when it’s bought,
It’s only the truth if it’s sought
for, fought for and won,
but that’s a rare occurrence,
Worse than slaying a flame
throwing dragon.

Lies create a new question for you,
Two sides - what you choose
to believe is the truth,
and what I choose to believe
is my truth, could all be slain
by thought.

If I wasn’t’ so pessimistic
this would be so simple.

You live in the truth where I am so content,
and everything screams “perfectly well”
I live in the truth where I am all dead
just stuck in a body that functions perfectly well,
I am waiting for the batteries to run out,
Waiting while I scream ‘I’m not perfectly well’
but your world knocks back pessimists
just like mine slays optimists.

The power of thought, free will
really could overpower all of this,
if only I had the guts to let it.
But I am a gutless liar thriving
on pessimism – dead soul,
living body.

What a dilemma,
What a dilemma I am.

somethin' different.

25-11-09
Uh uh oh, I think it’s more than a pity
that you’re date from last night has gone missing,
No-one’s heard from her in twelve hours
And you were the last one seen with her.

And the camera’s caught you courting her
in the club last night, and the camera’s
caught you leading her to your car,
But the camera’s didn’t catch what we can
all guess what happened after that,
But what did you do with her afterwards?

Did you add another to the graveyard
in your backyard? There sure is a lot of holes
and stuttering explanations – we’re
gonna get you for this, put you to shame.

And the camer’a caught you courting her
in the club last night, and the camera’s
caught you and her in your fancy car,
But the camera’s didn’t catch what we can
all guess what happened in that car,
But what did you do with her afterwards?

You’re just a part of that club who
prowls on a Saturday night, think
you gotta make the best of it whilst
you’re at the height of your youth,
You lock ‘em, tied up, in the boot,
And drive round ‘til their screams stop,
And then you chuck ‘em in to the hole
and you leave a little marker on top,
It’s not a name, but a number,
It’s not a name but another number
down in your book, you won’t keep getting
away with this.

The camera has gone missing and so has
the leading cop, and you were the last one
seen with her too, and our suspicions
are rising on you but you’re such a charmer,
A few dead girls don’t seem to matter,
As long as you take me home too, I don’t
mind If it means I have to die, I hear you’re
the best, no, no this isn’t a set-up sweetie,
Let’s unplug the camera and make it to your…

24-11-09
I am picking at all my scars
to ensure that they all last -
reflect the fissures in my heart.
I am picking at every scar
to ensure that they all last -
so my outsides can slightly resemble
my insides, my hurting heart.

I got loose bits of skin and dried blood
all stuck up and under my nails, feels
a bit grotty but the razor holds more
than my nails and anyway, it acts as some
kind of sign so I know all this suffering
is real, isn’t just some sick show inside
my head.

I doubt myself every day and I second guess
every decision that I make and I still make
an unusual amount of mistakes but I think
I crave just stuffing up ‘cause I’m not sure
how normal is, what normal is, I can’t
trace the letters quite straight or find
the words at all.
I will pick at all my scars
to ensure that they all last
just as long as the ones inside.
I will play with all my scars
to ensure that they all last
I will make them bleed again,
light up my skin like the stars.
I will pick each and every scar
so my skin can slightly resemble
all the fissures inside this heart.

At The Bottom

18/11/09
I think the frays are beginning to show,
I’m making more slip-ups than ever before
and I feel like they’re just waiting for me to
slip up, or worse, get up and dust off and walk on,
and live on, and find some kind of will.

But I’m at the bottom of this hole, pulling
my sheets up over my head and using a
rock as my pillow – I’m not really sleeping
just hiding from my life and living off the
sewerage of the only pipes that are this far under the earth,
and it tastes perfect and sends me into temporary madness,
at least it was temporary when I drank it in moderation,
Now I let it settle on my tongue and refresh me
probably a little more than I should, but in a hole this deep,
what else is there I can do?
My skin is caked in mud and blood that I can’t seem to wash off
however much it dares to rain upon me, I am surrounded,
sinking in a pool of wet mud and my own dried blood as it flakes
a little and merges with the blood before it slathers itself back
on my hands, my legs, my face,
my arms, my nails, my toes
cop it the worst just scrunching in it but never really drying,
If I had a mirror, I don’t think I would recognize myself, I can
even feel flecks of this rubbing against my pupils, and they walk
past but don’t even cast a glance ‘cause they know the monster
that lives down there and they just try their best to ignore it,
to pretend it doesn’t exist, but they try sort through the mess to find me,
not realizing they can’t have one without the other, and they’re hands
just can’t dig and just can’t reach deep enough.