All My Houses Are Haunted
[Bits and pieces in my lists from the last 4 weeks.]
Joshua: "Do you think you could get a little stronger so you can be a barge? Like Gaston!"
Bullet point thoughts:
Breath on my spine/piano. (Best feeling so far.)
Purity.
Quality time vs. touch?
I think in color and speak in grayscale.
Puroseful? Learned?
I need you so much closer?
I do things because it will make a good story. Maybe I'm just a good story for you to tell later.
Sophia: "I think I'm turning into a tiger."
What if names weren't given when you're born but earned as you traveled through life?
My name is Freedom.
Nobody can keep you honest. It's your choice and you deserve the credit.
The bathwater was an angry mood ring,
Her face suddenly silenced,
looking just as tormented as before
where I thought would be peace.
Daymares.
Sleeping in trees on the edge of a cliff
you slip
daring me to leave you to drip
There's coal on my lips
purify what I kiss
You won't know I love 'till I kiss every bit
They all have cultured painted faces.
Clowns are tasting each body, like zombies
and vampires
they become eachother
and fight
for nobody knows why
nor do they care
because it tastes like blood
like wind in their sails,
dime in their mouth
breathe in and out
dirty they are holes
dirty are their souls,
their wretched wretched empty souls
their wretched wretched socket holes
where wretched wrecthed eyes once stood
now wretched wretched neighborhoods
where wretched wretched houses stare
at their wretched wretched captives
All My Houses Are Haunted
they call them patrons and say that they save you
from acid rain that fill up your pitchers
you won't hold out long Jesus can't belong
because houses are cheats and liars and lechers.
They're diseasing my breathing, my seeking, my self.
And those walls aren't creaking,
it breaks and it takes all the people you love,
and it hides them in chests and writes death on your rugs,
and welcomes the demons it promised to keep,
away from your babies away from your sleep.
Those paintings aren't pictures of far away places
they're magic to forget their names and their faces,
get lost in your mind because dreams are all mine
I'll beat you and then hang your heart out to dry
to crush it and stir a concoction of lies.
I won't be the person with separate standards
and stands on their rooftops screaming slight and slander,
I'm not what you think an innocent bystander
I've been heavy handed,
my clenched fists are damned and
I'll kill for a spill
of your words on my shirt but let me be candid
we're not playing dress up I'm fed up,
I'm bringing into this collection of Stranded
scald marks and sparked hearts to break and to brand them
---
I scents you and turn my head and I get really upset that I think that you're here. It's like mailbox jokes. It's like Friday. I can't even let it down when you show up. That door is so hard for me to shut prematurely.
I don't know where you are. I don't know what's wrong. I don't know if it's me or it's her or it's you. It's been 5 days now and I am having great difficulty keeping my mind off and separating myself. I want to protect and understand and war for you. I'm a ruthless lover and deeply, I'll cut you deeply with affection and hope I find a way in before you're healed and my memory is just a scar you'll try to forget.
I don't miss people. Not often.
I hope I'm not annoying or clingy. Maybe I am clingy.
She says I'm cheesy. I'm sorry if that's how it sounds, they're my legitimate feelings, so work with me.
I keep dreaming. I hate waking up after good dreams sometimes.
Tuesday. I didn't. Because I thought it wouldn't be alright. Those are yours and I won't go uninvited.
I have so much to say but it's all in my head
when it gets to my heart I'll behave like before.
Joshua: "Do you think you could get a little stronger so you can be a barge? Like Gaston!"
Bullet point thoughts:
Breath on my spine/piano. (Best feeling so far.)
Purity.
Quality time vs. touch?
I think in color and speak in grayscale.
Puroseful? Learned?
I need you so much closer?
I do things because it will make a good story. Maybe I'm just a good story for you to tell later.
Sophia: "I think I'm turning into a tiger."
What if names weren't given when you're born but earned as you traveled through life?
My name is Freedom.
Nobody can keep you honest. It's your choice and you deserve the credit.
The bathwater was an angry mood ring,
Her face suddenly silenced,
looking just as tormented as before
where I thought would be peace.
Daymares.
Sleeping in trees on the edge of a cliff
you slip
daring me to leave you to drip
There's coal on my lips
purify what I kiss
You won't know I love 'till I kiss every bit
They all have cultured painted faces.
Clowns are tasting each body, like zombies
and vampires
they become eachother
and fight
for nobody knows why
nor do they care
because it tastes like blood
like wind in their sails,
dime in their mouth
breathe in and out
dirty they are holes
dirty are their souls,
their wretched wretched empty souls
their wretched wretched socket holes
where wretched wrecthed eyes once stood
now wretched wretched neighborhoods
where wretched wretched houses stare
at their wretched wretched captives
All My Houses Are Haunted
they call them patrons and say that they save you
from acid rain that fill up your pitchers
you won't hold out long Jesus can't belong
because houses are cheats and liars and lechers.
They're diseasing my breathing, my seeking, my self.
And those walls aren't creaking,
it breaks and it takes all the people you love,
and it hides them in chests and writes death on your rugs,
and welcomes the demons it promised to keep,
away from your babies away from your sleep.
Those paintings aren't pictures of far away places
they're magic to forget their names and their faces,
get lost in your mind because dreams are all mine
I'll beat you and then hang your heart out to dry
to crush it and stir a concoction of lies.
I won't be the person with separate standards
and stands on their rooftops screaming slight and slander,
I'm not what you think an innocent bystander
I've been heavy handed,
my clenched fists are damned and
I'll kill for a spill
of your words on my shirt but let me be candid
we're not playing dress up I'm fed up,
I'm bringing into this collection of Stranded
scald marks and sparked hearts to break and to brand them
---
I scents you and turn my head and I get really upset that I think that you're here. It's like mailbox jokes. It's like Friday. I can't even let it down when you show up. That door is so hard for me to shut prematurely.
I don't know where you are. I don't know what's wrong. I don't know if it's me or it's her or it's you. It's been 5 days now and I am having great difficulty keeping my mind off and separating myself. I want to protect and understand and war for you. I'm a ruthless lover and deeply, I'll cut you deeply with affection and hope I find a way in before you're healed and my memory is just a scar you'll try to forget.
I don't miss people. Not often.
I hope I'm not annoying or clingy. Maybe I am clingy.
She says I'm cheesy. I'm sorry if that's how it sounds, they're my legitimate feelings, so work with me.
I keep dreaming. I hate waking up after good dreams sometimes.
Tuesday. I didn't. Because I thought it wouldn't be alright. Those are yours and I won't go uninvited.
I have so much to say but it's all in my head
when it gets to my heart I'll behave like before.