Monday, January 18, 2010

Missing

Magic looses it's momentum
Like fire on wet grass
The reality of death
Sinks in slow
Like a slow burn cigarette
Why should yours flat line
While my pulse remains
Pushing toxins to my finger
tips and blasting needless, numbing nothings
into my spinal suffering
I am a broken leaf nothing
Touch me with your eyes, limp and brittle on the pavement
Touch me with your fingers
I crack and crumble
Into nothing

Friday, January 1, 2010

Hurt

I hurt myself today
To see if I still feel
I focus on the pain
The only thing that's real
The needle tears a hole
The old familiar sting
Try to kill it all away
But I remember everything

What have I become
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know goes away
In the end
And you could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt

I wear this crown of thorns
Upon my liar's chair
Full of broken thoughts
I cannot repair
Beneath the stains of time
The feelings disapear
You are someone else
I am still right here

What have I become
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know goes away
In the end
And you could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt

If I could start again
A million miles away
I would keep myself
I would find a way