Monday, July 27, 2009

Cathy Roe.

I walk through the city, not another soul in sight. Abandoned windows stare at me with an intensity that appears hungry and hollow. It flows like water no longer, it catches, stumbles. The stars are empty, glaring at me. The bell tolls it's sad tale and I wonder if anybody sees what I see, notices the grains in the brick or the tears in the tortured old man's eyes. A negative perception.
Are the stars meant to shine with meaning? Every flower glow with life? Strangers smiles fill me with joy?
I love my Grandma like a best friend.

Sunday, July 5, 2009

Too bad.

Loop the knot,
secure the hold.
Pierce the skin, it is the end,
of control.
Tear the flesh;
turn it on.
Blood every where,
Oh the commotion;
You and I
all over my bed.

Such a sad story,
The horror of the morning.

Friday, July 3, 2009

Lover I don't have to love.

I picked you out of a crowd and talked to you
I said I liked your shoes
You said, "Thanks, can I follow you?"
So it's up the stairs and out of view
No prying eyes
I poured some wine
I asked your name, you asked the time

Now it's two o'clock
The club is closed
We're up the block
Your hands on me; Pressing hard against your jeans
Your tongue in my mouth, trying to keep the words from coming out
You didn't care to know who else may have been you before

I want a lover I don't have to love
I want a girl who's too sad to give a fuck
Where's the kid with the chemicals?
I thought he said to meet him here but I'm not sure
I've got the money if you've got the time
You said it feels good
I said, "I'll give it a try."

Then my mind went dark
We both forgot where your car was parked
Let's just take the train
I'll meet up with the band in the morning

Bad actors with bad habits
Some sad singers they just play tragic
And the phone's ringing and the van's leaving
Let's just keep touching; let's just keep... keep singing...

I want a lover I don't have to love
I want a boy who's so drunk he doesn't talk
Where's the kid with the chemicals?
I've got a hunger and I can't seem to get full
I need some meaning I can memorize
The kind I have always seems to slip my mind

But you, but you...

You write such pretty words
But life's no storybook
Love's an excuse to get hurt
And to hurt.
Do you like to hurt?
I do, I do..

But, you can dream.

Reality, ( a dying breed )
ebbing, falling, ceasing.
a thousand vibrations,
a million less ( or more )
Ignorance, falling through;
/the leaves/
A thousand vibrations ( as the pebble breaths)
Streets of empty energy, surge through me
( like the ocean )
Trains of man,
You are almost,
speaking the dream.
The taste of;
( the old man's despair )
you must pay the fare.