Empty sex

Would you be offended if I ripped out your heart and played with it for a bit?
Because that's all I really want.
Just don't do it to me.
When I see you I see a piece of meat.
But with me,
That shit ain't free.

Cheap motel

To taste the avacado and the agitation of the day,
Mumbling to myself:

"Is life worth the price of stay?"

This isn't some cheap motel

We rent to have one last fun night

Before we cut our ties and realize together

we weren't right.

My ribs crack against the floor

as you shove me off the bed

I just wanted warmth

But you wanted that boy instead.

Her laughter rings to the moon outside

as he leaves and says goodbye

you think I won't remember

but once again,

you weren't right.

A glass bottle to your brain

I wanted your skull to crack

To see you bleed and beg for your life

But I couldn't get off my back.

It's just a cheap motel we rented one lonely night.

Beneath stained sheets, I dream of your death

where you won't put up a fight.

In a cheap motel where I'm always cold at 4 in the morning

we're dead.

I slept in my clothes

I wanted home

but you wanted that boy instead.

I guess this is what it feels like to be Lil Wayne

I’m gonna let you bring sexy back, you let me bring back you feeling sad.
You can do
you
and I’ll do
me
cause you’re just the
stems
and I’m just the
seeds.
We both get picked out and tossed in the end so let’s roll a fairwell and good riddance in
sin.
I can’t understand why I’m seeing single right now, when I’m so damn bored.
Locked up inside a damn insanity ward
is where I’d rather be than wishing I had something to regret, cause that’s the most fun I’ve had in days:
Hitting animals with metal in an overrated haze.
Until we can laugh without provocation in the back of your car seat, I’ll just wish this bread was your
skin
and this cinnamon was your
meat
until we can look at stars forcing our hearts beat the same, I’ll just wish this melted butter was just
booze
and this sugar was just
cocaine.

The day I lost my writing ability

This is the part where I spray my clothes with random air-freshener and begin brushing my teeth as quickly as possible, half of my body in the shower, and half of my body still outside in the cold air of the upstairs floor. My muscles tell me it's not over, my mind tells me it's just another score, just another notch on the belt. I can't help but think of the mental images I saw dripped onto the canvas. If you could extract every form of human emotion from the brain and spill it into another's vision, well, I believe I saw it. I saw happiness. It wasn't the happiness I had always known, it was the kind I had never dreamed of having. The kind I looked down upon, and frankly didn't understand. I know that happiness now, yet my view on such simulated emotion has not changed, in fact, is stronger than ever. Naturally, the craving continues still. Is it a craving? Or just simply that feeling of nearly fitting into the puzzle's picture? That can't be it, but of course it is. That is the reason I am overjoyed. I will stand by that until I am forced not to. Now I am only looking towards the next lack of muscle control I can get my hands on. The act of touching such is a lack of control in itself, only longing for what it has become; a monster. That's me. That is us all. We are always looking forward. Filled with memories and hope from the past, addicted to itself. Addicted to the future. We have the popheart. We have the goals. We have to fill the silence with screams and moans and smoke and smiles. We musn't sit still, we musn't dance as we rip apart our eyelid-enemie's loving grasp on each others hand, which is what we find ourselves doing to our own hearts these days. We fight to say the right thing, struggle to stay awake. Only to make a memory that you won't even have. We are living to start a war.Tommorow will be the part where I beg and dream, only to taste the smallest portion of covetted I can reach to. Only to feel the same. You can watch whatever you please, you can read every book in every section of every forgotten library, but the truth lies between the paint and the pipes. When the guitars begin to play beautifully, and the lyrics begin to make sense to your unalert lobes. We are teenagers. We are far from juvenile. We aren't kids. We aren't strangers. We aren't human. We are souls. You can't direct the secret lives of spirits, and plaster them on a screen. You can only paint their secrets, sing them, strum them, scream them. We don't ask for much, just an end to the pursuit, that will never come. We merely want noise, taste, and happiness. We are parched. I know it can't be the blood we see splattered across the pavement, or the whispered lies in the dark. Holding hands, face to face, heart to heart, lips to lips, shoulder to hip; no. So tell me. What is it exactly that sets a soul free?

Wrecked the lambo

The limitless lies to sooth our limitless lives and coo to our soggy hearts. Not quite a fairy tale, I can feel the metal bend against me. I can hear the shards of glass dance across the pavement, into my skin. I just hope you hear it too. The last flash across my mind was you. I just wish you'd felt it too.

Sometimes I wanna run away

I'm listening to music
that isn't quite cool anymore
and you're closing the blue
metallic minivan door
you hand me the keys
to lock in my safety
and I'm thinking how far
this gas tank could get me

Empty love

I despise the thought of you.

Though dependence lies in you presence.

The existance of each other is leaning.

If I'm forcing myself to write this,

perhaps it has no meaning.

So next time you say you love me,

I'd rather we lay and not sit.

That way,

when you touch me,

I'll know there's no meaning behind it.

Weed

I think in ten years we will see each other again.
and I think I’ll be beautiful.
and your eyes will be sunken in.
there will be a look behind them thats screaming “I’m broken”
and the blue will be a different tint,
like not the color of the ocean or the sky,
but the kind you see in a babys eyes,
and the mothers when that baby dies.
I think we’ll stare at each other, both knowing we changed each others lives.
I’ll begin to cry because I didn’t do enough, obviously.
and you’ll cry too because if you had done more, I wouldn’t be me.
we will be two skeletons hugging.
afraid to crush each other, not caring enough to stop it, but knowing there’s not much left to crush.
we will just be two broken souls back at the starting line
but the whistles already blown
everything won’t turn out fine.
I’ll try to kiss your lips, but it won’t feel quite the same.
Because this time you might mean it
and if we did kiss, you’d be admitting it
and I hope you’d avoid it to no prevail in hopes I wouldn’t cry anymore.
I think in ten years we will see each other again.
I hope you’ll still love me.
and I hope I made you happy.
even if without each other, we didn’t exactly survive.
I think in ten years we will see each other again.
that is, if you’re still alive.

testing Tumblr.

HIYA

Created yet another blog, mainly at Audey's suggestion. Just check out my work and feel free to view my other sites(: