all the days past
minutes pulled from hours
silence we both felt
slipped through the hourglass
[Abu Graib sensory deprivation was my thing]
/I take pictures, photographic pictures
Bright light, dark room/ *
bondage was our code
for the brief
chance to steal
moments of pleasure
in the end
time was the thief
now we are gone
polaroid photographs
are all that remains
burn them with a match
it's hard to erase the stains
/I take pictures, photographic pictures
Bright light, dark room/ *
chemicals are soluble
mixed with blood
so it seems
fragile
memories we shared
exchanging platitudes
through half-hearted smiles
each second with you
was a slow-motion snuff film
flashing in black and white
I was the prisoner
under your serrated knife
/I take pictures, photographic pictures
Bright light, dark room/ *
I wanted to tell you everything
my secrets are too dark
would you still have loved me
when the person you see
is nothing more than a scarecrow
with a hay for a heart
/I take pictures, photographic pictures
Bright light, dark room/ *
This dark heart
Hay wound in a bundle
Around a Ravens Feather
Red yarn strung together
With railroad spikes
*Depeche Mode - Photographic
Monday, October 27, 2008
Friday, October 24, 2008
Mark of Cain
Tattoos and burns
My body tells the story
In cryptic code
of Cain's legacy
He has given me over
To my own depraved mind
Like father like son
The thing you created
Is the thing you love to hate
A cryptic language
Carved into my skin
Reminding me
Of every sin
There’s
Two parts of a whole
Each set against the other
Wanting to tear me apart
I feel the days pass
My bones want to come out
Flesh burns away
Twisting entrails hold poisons
A heart filled with cyanide
Epidermis embedded with glass and tacks
Foreign objects of metallic origin
A cryptic language
Carved into my skin
Reminding me
Of every sin
In my dreams
Wild dogs chase me all night
A black river in the forest
Two strange girls on the banks laugh and hold me
I shout out strange words in my sleep
Running in all directions
Following the glow of some distant light
Of Masks and Maps
Discerning between dream and reality
Is a difficult thing
As I follow the Black River east
Miscreant
Driven
Breathless
Wondering
Japanese Rope
This was your idea
You forgot to take your Risperdal
Sucking me into your twisted fantasy
About being tied, gagged and hung from a wall.
What’s good for the goose
Is good for the gander
I’m an accomplice
In your diseased mind
We share something unusual
I want to leave scars
Of where I have been
One for every day
To mark the commission of a sin.
They say Japanese rope
Is the best
It feels good
When I cinch it around your throat
You forgot to take your Risperdal
Sucking me into your twisted fantasy
About being tied, gagged and hung from a wall.
What’s good for the goose
Is good for the gander
I’m an accomplice
In your diseased mind
We share something unusual
I want to leave scars
Of where I have been
One for every day
To mark the commission of a sin.
They say Japanese rope
Is the best
It feels good
When I cinch it around your throat
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
I fucking Hate you
I can't stand
to see you in the arms of my friend
When all I want to do
is tie you to the bed
I fucking hate you
my whore fantasy
You will take it inside
moaning and purring
as he watches gagged on the sideline
You're a dumb christian girl
makes me wonder why
you act like the Whore of Babylon
but its all platitudes
Right? In the end, we're all liars.
When you make me jealous
It's just a match in the fire
to see you in the arms of my friend
When all I want to do
is tie you to the bed
I fucking hate you
my whore fantasy
You will take it inside
moaning and purring
as he watches gagged on the sideline
You're a dumb christian girl
makes me wonder why
you act like the Whore of Babylon
but its all platitudes
Right? In the end, we're all liars.
When you make me jealous
It's just a match in the fire
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Night
Staring out the window
Street lights illuminate
Red eyes of an insomniac
I can't kill the dreams
With Vodka shots and Prozac
Street lights illuminate
Red eyes of an insomniac
I can't kill the dreams
With Vodka shots and Prozac
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Passersby
I see them.
I write their names
In a book of leaves
The fountain pen
furiously scribbling
a strange alphabet.
They pass by,
Intent on their lives
I see them.
Wish I could own them.
I write their names
In a book of leaves
The fountain pen
furiously scribbling
a strange alphabet.
They pass by,
Intent on their lives
I see them.
Wish I could own them.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Benediction
This is a new addiction
Induction into my cult
Innocent Christian girls
to be my drugged up
Marionettes
Dark trash littered alleys
The veins of metropolis
lead to the cemetery
on the outskirts of town
Something is taking you there
euphoria
as we drift
A ceremony of the diseased
You are saved
Pouring alcohol
over your nude body
Baptism
A grave
Lit with candles
Sirens, a choir
Police lights make stained glass
Adrenaline sanctifies
Tied, bound and blind
Sodomy is a benediction
You become me
Part of my collection
Protestant or Catholic
Makes no difference
They all cry the same
Another Christian girl
to pleasure me.
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