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Dear Mr. Magic Man,
Take me out of this place, let me blend in with the darkness. Product of strangulation and misery, a broken heart as the only comfort. Wind it up tightly, be sure to use the barbed wire to secure it in place. Haven't I ever said that you break me the best? Shelve the guns and box up the ammo, the sharp edges of your words hurt me the most. That's what you were getting at, isn't it? Mixing up what you say is my forte, but I can't misconstrue that. Not today. Not ever.
7am and although the sun has sent the first set of sparkling rays over the horizon, it's damp and dark within the walls of myself. The forecast for today doesn't look good and tomorrow is looking the same. I don't know how I made it this long, but once the numbness has set in, everything slips by. Flashbacks to earlier in the night are rapidly setting in and how everything changed. I wish life had a fucking delete button so that I could remove this night from my memory. Better yet, remove her from it.
I can't say her name, refuse to give her that much power over me, but I'm fighting not to. Why not let the whole world know who she is? She's not famous. No. She's a zombie like the rest of the civilized world not living up to their dreams. But she was MY zombie and I loved her all the same. Shit...I LOVE HER. It can't disappear that fast for me, no matter how much I want it to.
Bodies tangled, intertwined with a purpose. We melted together the only way we knew how. Even that is cliche, but who am I to judge my own words when I can't remember what I just said. Not when thoughts of the feel of her skin, so soft and warm, against my own. Flesh upon flesh until it's hard to tell where one stops and the other begins. That's how I like it. At least she gave me that much. I'll never forget her taste, lingering almost teasingly upon my senses, beckoning me.
Five little words exiting her mouth, circumnavigating their way until my ears they hit. "I can't love you anymore." Since when did loving me become such a fucking chore? I never looked at it that way, but she thinks that she has to work to keep my love with only her. What the fuck? Look at my phone bill, see that you're the only one I've been calling. I wanted to stitch her to my side so that I'd never be apart from her, but she doesn't believe that. What more could I say? She says the fame has gotten to me, but I say that I'm just the same. I'm not even famous by my standards. It's her that has changed.
Maybe she wants to be in the spotlight too. Be another Pete and Jeanae. I've got news on that front..it won't happen. Not when I'm starting to not care. Already, I can feel that there is something more. Love is the worst weapon and I've just released my most powerful bullet. I've nothing left to fight with, but why would I want to. There's nothing left worth fighting for. Not even myself.
Strike up the band and play me a sorrowful tune. I'll bring the pieces I have left.
Take me out of this place, let me blend in with the darkness. Product of strangulation and misery, a broken heart as the only comfort. Wind it up tightly, be sure to use the barbed wire to secure it in place. Haven't I ever said that you break me the best? Shelve the guns and box up the ammo, the sharp edges of your words hurt me the most. That's what you were getting at, isn't it? Mixing up what you say is my forte, but I can't misconstrue that. Not today. Not ever.
7am and although the sun has sent the first set of sparkling rays over the horizon, it's damp and dark within the walls of myself. The forecast for today doesn't look good and tomorrow is looking the same. I don't know how I made it this long, but once the numbness has set in, everything slips by. Flashbacks to earlier in the night are rapidly setting in and how everything changed. I wish life had a fucking delete button so that I could remove this night from my memory. Better yet, remove her from it.
I can't say her name, refuse to give her that much power over me, but I'm fighting not to. Why not let the whole world know who she is? She's not famous. No. She's a zombie like the rest of the civilized world not living up to their dreams. But she was MY zombie and I loved her all the same. Shit...I LOVE HER. It can't disappear that fast for me, no matter how much I want it to.
Bodies tangled, intertwined with a purpose. We melted together the only way we knew how. Even that is cliche, but who am I to judge my own words when I can't remember what I just said. Not when thoughts of the feel of her skin, so soft and warm, against my own. Flesh upon flesh until it's hard to tell where one stops and the other begins. That's how I like it. At least she gave me that much. I'll never forget her taste, lingering almost teasingly upon my senses, beckoning me.
Five little words exiting her mouth, circumnavigating their way until my ears they hit. "I can't love you anymore." Since when did loving me become such a fucking chore? I never looked at it that way, but she thinks that she has to work to keep my love with only her. What the fuck? Look at my phone bill, see that you're the only one I've been calling. I wanted to stitch her to my side so that I'd never be apart from her, but she doesn't believe that. What more could I say? She says the fame has gotten to me, but I say that I'm just the same. I'm not even famous by my standards. It's her that has changed.
Maybe she wants to be in the spotlight too. Be another Pete and Jeanae. I've got news on that front..it won't happen. Not when I'm starting to not care. Already, I can feel that there is something more. Love is the worst weapon and I've just released my most powerful bullet. I've nothing left to fight with, but why would I want to. There's nothing left worth fighting for. Not even myself.
Strike up the band and play me a sorrowful tune. I'll bring the pieces I have left.