(no subject)
hollow out my eyes this year i'm a ghost,
a soul seen better roads, but at least more then most.
effortless mental medicine to storm through my body,
i've been walking forever, and by now i wish someone had caught me.
and on the might and light of secret shakes, toothaches, and earthquakes..
boys and girls dancing with the devil cause their bones ache,
in the basements i wrote my life on the walls,
documented a passing in the purest form.
this is not the end, no one can take your heartkid.
.
.
.
but it went off into the mist, like this,
his wrists were too thin but his spirit could lift the life of any man.
and this house, and this life , and these eyes, and these hands,
they are getting old, but i tell him to please smile, and fake like he understands.
and his life can sink like the sun, on fire.
birds on the wire, talking behind my back, while i walk passed.
while i stalk my past through the eyes of the last known drone to tell me to go home.
but i cant have a home,
when i cant sleep at night,
and i cant be alone,
for this entire f(l)ight,
my jaw is far too glass for that,
my heart is far too attack for that,
my arrest is far too cardiac for that,
my spirit is far too dark to flash,
or to detach the fever from the back of the giver and the receiver,
your face is not your own until i see you smile,
im not in denial, im just sinking without thinking into the files that pile up to your ceiling,
stealing one more look, what is that feeling?
a soul seen better roads, but at least more then most.
effortless mental medicine to storm through my body,
i've been walking forever, and by now i wish someone had caught me.
and on the might and light of secret shakes, toothaches, and earthquakes..
boys and girls dancing with the devil cause their bones ache,
in the basements i wrote my life on the walls,
documented a passing in the purest form.
this is not the end, no one can take your heartkid.
.
.
.
but it went off into the mist, like this,
his wrists were too thin but his spirit could lift the life of any man.
and this house, and this life , and these eyes, and these hands,
they are getting old, but i tell him to please smile, and fake like he understands.
and his life can sink like the sun, on fire.
birds on the wire, talking behind my back, while i walk passed.
while i stalk my past through the eyes of the last known drone to tell me to go home.
but i cant have a home,
when i cant sleep at night,
and i cant be alone,
for this entire f(l)ight,
my jaw is far too glass for that,
my heart is far too attack for that,
my arrest is far too cardiac for that,
my spirit is far too dark to flash,
or to detach the fever from the back of the giver and the receiver,
your face is not your own until i see you smile,
im not in denial, im just sinking without thinking into the files that pile up to your ceiling,
stealing one more look, what is that feeling?