pick the black rose
i m seeing faces. i got this heavy i ve been carrying around.i dont know what to do with it. its pulling heart strings and pinchin rib cage. its so heavy. it hurts. i wouldnt wish that feeling on anyone. what is it? whats wrong with you? i feel like flying. i should turn these slow songs off. i should take pills. i should fix my head. i should fix my heart. it comes and goes. sometimes i think its gone for good but then it comes back and hits me so hard. the blinking cursor is a tick. its telling me i m not good enough for words, i m not good enough to make words. its better than me. i remember one time in poetry mo used the words " dull ache" in a poem. i said something that although that is exactly how it is and i know that exact pain shes talking about, that she should say it different, in her own way. elisa was like yeah dull ache is the best way to put it. i ve been feeling this since i could feel. i m ready for a fuckin break.
i ve been workin so goddamn much its making me sick. yeah i m gunna have alot of money but what the fuck is money. i hate money. its all gunna be spent on clothes that lil asian children make in sweatshops, cheap baseball beer and bud. disposable. not shit thats permanent. only tangible for a few hours til the buzz wears off.
ive been holdin these tears in since i got home. what did i accomplish today? worked 10-5, did laundry, cleaned out my sock/tights drawer and threw a bunch of shit out, oh yeah, and watched lords of dogtown....i m so productive. i need to start writing as much as before. i need to feel that release onto paper and it comes so fucking fast that you can barely keep up and you dont wanna forget a line but you do because its so fast. i want that rush. you cant get it in sacks.
i m gunna make myself a stiff drink when everyones asleep.
i ve been workin so goddamn much its making me sick. yeah i m gunna have alot of money but what the fuck is money. i hate money. its all gunna be spent on clothes that lil asian children make in sweatshops, cheap baseball beer and bud. disposable. not shit thats permanent. only tangible for a few hours til the buzz wears off.
ive been holdin these tears in since i got home. what did i accomplish today? worked 10-5, did laundry, cleaned out my sock/tights drawer and threw a bunch of shit out, oh yeah, and watched lords of dogtown....i m so productive. i need to start writing as much as before. i need to feel that release onto paper and it comes so fucking fast that you can barely keep up and you dont wanna forget a line but you do because its so fast. i want that rush. you cant get it in sacks.
i m gunna make myself a stiff drink when everyones asleep.