(no subject)
the skies are dying and crying for sweet sacrifices to come in the form of pale skin and sadistic love. The blood rushed to my head quicker than the waterfalls from my eyes and i turned another corner to watch another friend die. I ride this carousel so well, with perfect complexions and cracks lips throwing thick red paint over them and whispering sweet temptations in your ears. i know its fear you hear every time i come near and trace your face with my imaginary paintbrush making us picture perfect while i wear my best masochist on my sleeve oh what a tease your love is with the up and downs of the modern day flu that goes around and infects us all with your demands and trivial calls i am constantly making, shaking and begging for forgiveness because i am just another mess to clean up. i thought you knew better than to call me less than clever i thought you knew better than to trust another savior. golden queen dripped in disgrace with that silly grin on her face looking for someone she could later replace or take for granted, all the semantics stuck to our tongues that evening we knew we could see it but chose to just ignore the obvious, because lust and comfort never tasted better than when it was wrapped in leather and sold in the form of chains and the blood rushed to my brain quicker than the waterfalls from my soul and i blacked out from all the nonsense and tension that was held inside the room.
The golden queen paid a price and she never thought it would be such great heights her ego grew bigger just to be slaughtered by this killer who calls himself god, but the look on her face when she awoke the morning after didn't bring laughter, just regret as she slid out of bed half dressed and mostly dead watching his silohette dance gracefully like the snowflakes on her technology, like the ice she crawled across just to get lost in another dream. And locked inside her own personal hell, where the queen can no longer tell just what is sincerity and what are games, she awaits another day where circumstance stays the same. And she tries to understand just what kind of man would hold her hand through all of this rage and mistake, the selfishness of a pig she burdens wondering if it was worth it, if that third pill was really a charm, if all her self inflicted harm was really worth this one room hell where everybody knows her shame. And she wonders if it would just be easier to sell her crown and just bow down, repeating his name.
But she's addicted to that feel good sleaze and trash that she carries, she is addicted to the pills in her left pocket, addicted to pain, addicted to fame and shame, even though she won't admit it, deep inside the waterfalls start to die quicker than all the blood in her veins. Say you don't mean it, say you won't go away, tell me i will be perfect one of these days. Because underneath her skin lives a child who just wants to win,lives a girl looking to shed the world she has become so attached to, but the only feel good comes and goes and she knows she is better than what she sells herself for. So calmly, once again the queen lowers her head and admits she is less than she deserves, she isn't better than the herd of the masses who dance so quietly in orderly fashion, dashing across the moon the night she let her dignity slide and she became only his fool. But she forgets sometimes, when the shades go down to block out the sunlight, she forgets just why she crowned herself the golden queen when all she really is, is sleaze and he holds the key to her heart yet it seems so hard to just fast forward to the part where there is no more misplaced shame, where it's all tamed and brought to you by sadistic twisted love; where being his is finally enough.
The golden queen paid a price and she never thought it would be such great heights her ego grew bigger just to be slaughtered by this killer who calls himself god, but the look on her face when she awoke the morning after didn't bring laughter, just regret as she slid out of bed half dressed and mostly dead watching his silohette dance gracefully like the snowflakes on her technology, like the ice she crawled across just to get lost in another dream. And locked inside her own personal hell, where the queen can no longer tell just what is sincerity and what are games, she awaits another day where circumstance stays the same. And she tries to understand just what kind of man would hold her hand through all of this rage and mistake, the selfishness of a pig she burdens wondering if it was worth it, if that third pill was really a charm, if all her self inflicted harm was really worth this one room hell where everybody knows her shame. And she wonders if it would just be easier to sell her crown and just bow down, repeating his name.
But she's addicted to that feel good sleaze and trash that she carries, she is addicted to the pills in her left pocket, addicted to pain, addicted to fame and shame, even though she won't admit it, deep inside the waterfalls start to die quicker than all the blood in her veins. Say you don't mean it, say you won't go away, tell me i will be perfect one of these days. Because underneath her skin lives a child who just wants to win,lives a girl looking to shed the world she has become so attached to, but the only feel good comes and goes and she knows she is better than what she sells herself for. So calmly, once again the queen lowers her head and admits she is less than she deserves, she isn't better than the herd of the masses who dance so quietly in orderly fashion, dashing across the moon the night she let her dignity slide and she became only his fool. But she forgets sometimes, when the shades go down to block out the sunlight, she forgets just why she crowned herself the golden queen when all she really is, is sleaze and he holds the key to her heart yet it seems so hard to just fast forward to the part where there is no more misplaced shame, where it's all tamed and brought to you by sadistic twisted love; where being his is finally enough.