Last Kiss, Slit Wrists

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The hills are tall, the rivers deep

i’ve been running away from my sleep.

It’s where you stay, where you rest.

You swim in circles in my head.

You drag up memories, our long car rides –

the way you kissed me on Friday night.

 

The sun is rising, mist floats above weeds

you went looking for her and stopped at me.

Now that I’m out here, knee deep,

no one’s coming, who’ll fall for me?

Borrow a knife, slit my wrists…

I’ll do anything to forget your kiss.

The Devil’s Love Song

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“I keep my anger at home” locked in a box that’s high on a shelf. I don’t take it down -and force myself to look at other things. Her lingerie, the plants, our photos. If I take the box down it shows me everything you’ve done to take for granted my love. The missed calls, the bruises on my lips – the knife I held that time on the kitchen floor when you were faded and throwing hits. I get new tattoos, autobiographical, showing how you killed me.

Step aside, let the devil through. He’s no help when I call, he likes the show you put on. Put your fingers around my neck and squeeze with everything you have. Take the box down – you broke my goddamned heart. I drink myself to death to prove everyone right. Give me a gun, give me a gun. I’ll blow my own head of just to watch you come undone.

Play the cords in e-minor, an outlaws love song – put the box back on the shelf before I kill us both. Pass me the whiskey – settling my own score. I haven’t had enough, my soul hasn’t made peace.

I’ll wait to kill me until your asleep.

I Was Drunk. You Were Gone.

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I was drunk, mixing alcohols, mixing my thoughts. My breaths knocked me cold and I wanted a hospital. I wanted medications. I wanted more booze. I wanted you.

You were gone.

I was drunk, mixing mouths and liquors. Sharking kisses is easy if you remove the intimacy. I tried to tell someone what I was seeing, he was standing in front of me. I wanted to be sober. I wanted you.

You were gone.

I was drunk, mixing and stirring the pot because I could. I was thinking about razor blades and death. I fell out the window, needed clean air. Woke up ashamed and thinking of the phone call because I wanted you and not her.

You were gone.

Write Circles, Dream Courage

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The ending was written, I had seen it all before.

But of course, not this ending, not yours.

 

I liked the not knowing, the feeling of drowning,

 

of letting you and your dark dark hands

twist me and break me and leave me on wet sand.

I didn’t know how you would break my heart,

and that was the magic, where you told me you would start.

You were cunning and dark and you had a knife of a tongue

you used it to split me, watch me come undone.

Used it to cut and kiss and scrape

all of the places the dark had made.

 

It could have worked, we were so close,

 

I was threading our seams so they were one,

but I loved you and you loved too much.

 

The dark was your friend the knife was you

 

Your anger was there and here and inside me

I always, always, knew you were lying.

Yeah, my love, I was close to you.

And all you did was fuck me, love me,

leave me bruised.

Night Skies 

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night skies, brown eyes-

you feel lucky and I’m the reason why.

I’ve got my hands down,

singing loud,

I wear a crown

but I hate the Lies.

Woods are dark, with 

luscious lips,

I’m drunk so you put hands on hips.

you know everything he did 

but you don’t understand

I’m a fucking savage

And 

I

Hate

Them.

I tell myself it’s rude

to try to remind you

that I hate touching

and your friend gave me bruises.

But you want what you want

you don’t listen to me.

I know it’s not love:

you look but you don’t see.

Cause I’ve got my hands down,

singing loud,

touch me again and I 

want to drown.

Take yours hands off my hips,

Take your eyes off my lips,

I hate your voice 

don’t you dare kiss.

Late

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Every road ends at you, ends at him, ends at you and her,

not me and him.

You and her, if that’s it I’ll do nothing.

Red covers throats, covers wrists, it’s going to cover your grave before long.

Seeping over, covering the white roses you never bought me

If it had been anyone, it would have been you.

Except you were busy, or leaving, sometimes not thinking.

Arms holding me up, hands laying me down;

you taught me.

and then you ended me.

and it would have been fine.

if you had showed up.

“Should Have Known Better”

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I should have known better, hating you, writing love letters.

I’m reduced to ashes, steam barely moves from my mouth.

Winter has frozen me over, and I’m loathe to let myself out.

The apartment is barren, and I’ve lost you.

I’ve lost the heat, I’ve lost the life, if I don’t move I’ll surely die.

I understand it, though, the dead pride that burns in lost thoughts.

The dead hope that burns in lost lives.

I could be a lost life, and you wouldn’t care. You picked me up twice,

my body laid bare.

My feet dragged on the shore, the camp was ahead of us.

You were a poet, you weren’t here for survival. You were here for charm,

what a shame you were dead wrong.

I was here because I had nowhere else to be, I had no one else to be.

When the wire got tight, when the wire got thin

you left me behind and said, “Go ask him.”