Thursday, March 26, 2015

Being Young

with lungs full of high priced cigarettes
and a stomach full of cheap whiskey
with Fall Out Boy blaring
through shitty speakers
with no bass
is this what it means to be young?

to drown bitterness and sorrow
with drops of loathing
clothed in alcohol

to suffocate self hatred
with nicotine and bloody tears
weeping down sides

is this what it means to be young?
to express yourself with slow suicide
pretending to be okay
until even you believe it

i've never felt better
am i lying?

i'm the prettiest fuckup
with the best taste in tobacco
and caffeinated blood

i'll make a pretty corpse, it's true
sex, drugs, rock and roll
what's there to miss?

rat-a-tat-tat on the door
is it someone i love
or a reminder of all the things i've done?

with lungs aching from classy smoke
and a breaking heart
from the past
with music and daydreams and failure
is this what it means to succeed?

burnt to the filter
inhale slowly and it won't kill you
sip it like it matters
and maybe it will
hope that it will get better
and maybe it could

they say it never gets better than this
and this is pretty fucked up

(c) 2015

Friday, March 20, 2015

Personal Fantasy

your dark, personal fantasy
strange, erotic, lucid
smelling like beeswax and leather
you're only home in your own head
spiraling, out of control,
you're a galaxy
untamed, unbowed

your dark, personal fantasy
Freudian, eclectic
it makes you shiver
these things that create something within us
feathers on the skin
lashes, closed lips that beg
we are unencumbered in those moments
i miss this

your dark, personal fantasy
bent, twisted, deranged
you like that, don't you?
you like it when it's burning you up
you like it when
you like it
you like it when it erases all that could be wrong
to sink, simple, into a different consciousness

your dark, personal fantasy
filled with yes ma'am and no sir
brings you lust
panting, desiring, you want more
well since you asked so nicely

your dark, personal fantasy
you love it when you can't see what's coming
don't you?
but it's not that simple is it?

your dark, personal fantasy
tied up in knots, unafraid
it frees the breath in your lungs
expressive in its tightness
gasps say so much more than words
they do?

(c) 2015