im hanging off collarbones, im teething on hipbones

i am the whites of eyes and she is a basketcase
push the envelope and maybe we will make it to the backroom
lungs full of nicotine
mouths full of insults
everyone has their poison
wolves. deus ex machine. red bull. supra footwear. jeff buckley. grey and gray. digital photos looking like polaroids.
and i like 3D movies
they make me spin all the way to the bathroom tiles.
watch me brag my vices to the mirror (eyes closed, always)
and, oh, the floors never been so inviting
and the lights never been so striking
kicking the weekdays in the teeth just to blow it all on the weekend
lay down next to ripped halves of photos
slept all through the day(dreams)
woke up in a shoegazing mood
blame the bad weather
but the one thing you can always count on with me is that i am always half there

rough work, but we wouldnt have it any other way.

crazed young animals
either howl at the moon or let the vet put you to sleep
(hot or cold, never room temperature)
natural disasters
we will ruin everything that you hold in high esteem
rip open your head and see what makes you tick
now,
gutter stomp when the breakdown kicks in
fuck.
see me shining like pearls for the first time in my life
next to the perfect teeth in the magazines
compensate for being rotten on the inside with wit in spades
just pucks of pooks hill
dear you,
migrating east
tell me
are you running away or coming home for the first time?