Well fuck.

i don't even get your second-hand breath, let alone the love with it.

tongues for kissing and hands for caressing

An Ode to the Pretty Pretty Kids with the Tired Tired Eyes‏

close but no cigar
so heres a cigarette instead
getting tobacco kicks behind the school's tennis courts
stiff upper lip "no" till i saw your tear-stained baby doll face
then i melted a little
like break a sweat, broke a drought
break a mother's back with footsteps on the pavement crack
i never cry thanks to a salt buildup in my ducts
opening sleep stiched eyes with a yawn to a sleeping face
the pills dont work when you make cameos in my dreams
made a noose with my sheets right up next to the phone
waiting till 11:11 to make a wish you would call and confess everything to me
kick out the chair beneath my feet
and kiss black and blue lips
suicidal wishes with a tendancy to become reality
wanna shut me up?
just put me the fuck to bed.
i want to sleep inside love
between rooster teeth and real love and dinosaur bones and you.

I would sell my soul for some sanity!

fuck the yesterdays and fuck the tommorows
one oh one with the plus ones
i lied when i said i had a nightmare
i confess it was a dream and i dreamt of you
my legs have since given in from carrying a head full of dreams
found i was my own twin so i gutted the worser-off and left em for dead
traitor in my own time in my head
these words offer no peace of mind
just refunds for grounding spines up against hotel room matresses
skin on skin
you wish for a lovers shoulder when im standing right here unnoticed
and im off to shoot up on skylines and better times
my memories failing- was it ever easyliving?
cant remember what 'love' felt like
cant remember the last time i felt alive
"i just drank a fifth of vodka; dare me to drive?"

anarchy in this URL

i like to think you live between our computer screens
lost in translation like tokyo city lights
honestly ive never felt so at home as when im trawling through your dotcoms
youve got enough pages to keep me
Engaged
refresh hot keys are worn down to nubs but (baby) i keep on pressing
gotta weird obsession with sid vicious and i think id jump off this burning bridge if he followed suit
sometimes i want to smack everyone in the face for stooping so fucking low as to hang with a kid like me
and i scream "theres no cure for that gravel rash on your chin"
keep your head high and your standards even higher
its the only way to make it outta this one starbucks town

"Come on, lets go assemble the cannon fodder..." "Thats not what we're calling them, sweetie." "Not to their faces. What am i- insensitive?"

past tense is putting my head in a box and taping it shut
"dear dr gravity, im lost in this city"
trying to read a map but the street names are all a blur
"and dear dr gravity ive lost my mind"
the cool metal on yr empty wrists will make you weep for the scar
i wrote this all for the caller on aisle 5
i think i found love
in dark bathroom stall
with a nameless face
and ended up on the fucking floor
i stuttered "i love you"s to whoever tuned in to hear
im the worst disc jockey but i can keep you listening
heres another confession from the side of the road
"im have a crush on anyone that ever second glanced me"
lock me up in the purgatory
coz im addicted to the haters,
i get off on their words
fucking to their honesty
fucking off from their fists
but id sure as hell break my knuckes on anyones teeth
that let a insult like that find its way to you
"basset hound loyal" to this backpocket believers crew
but isnt it ironic how theyve forgotten me so soon?

(you kids keep this loose cannon tied up. i love know you.)

THE PHARMACIST PRESCRIBES:

- One Singapore Sling for the heat rash between your thighs

- And one more down your throat to help you sleep all through the night

Little lost Romeo waiting on a sign from the divine

"Hes about as funny as a cry for help"
lookin pretty busy with his game face on
wringing his hands coz hes got a sleep debt he needs to pay off
youve done your dash so drop the dice and follow me
wolves at the door
marveled at how soon the hunter is the hunted
and the clocks never give a shit
put pen to paper and start the body count
ill bet you lost count of them all the moment you lost all their cash
the cards tricked his head
writing exposes on your insides
sitting on your front lawn throwing milestones at your window
swallow the broken glass
dont worry- it wont hurt you more than your words hurt him
let me give you the Cliff Notes-
put the lovesick puppy out of its misery.
"a vague disclaimer is nobodys friend but mine"