Untitled
By: The Vampire Sweets
Wishing I had written the end of your story
the end of your time
and it took some time to
get back to reality
to get back to the crack
to get back to what was
meaningful
and the set was still on
and the lemon was still on
the counter..
flowing bitterness
and I pinched it, and I thought
stolidly
of my future in the coffee stained
carpet that spread itself
flatly before me.
And I wouldn't fight it.
I wouldn't know where to begin.
Only the slamming of the doors
outside wakes me every day
and I have to start again, and I have
to see the truth even though I
protect my ears from it with a
thick coat of silence..
I have refined its quality
and honed it inside my mind...
taken it for a ride taken it around the world of my
spirit's dirty corpse
and as the speed increases I
can't stop
and I can't change
but I can always know
I must always know
who I am
whether I like her
or hate her
or wish her dead
she is mine
and I am hers.
and nothing changes that
godforsaken destiny.
fleeting flexibility, and
stone walls that errupt
out of the nasty world of
truth and indecision...
what a sight, what a day,
what a noise. Not loving it
Trying not to know it
Trying to understand it
and the growing happiness
that each day brings me closer
to home...closer, in fact,
to the dark, velvety hole
of home...of rest....of death.
You can't hide from it, and you don't
have to bring anything.
It's death. You just go, or it comes for you.
That is a language i can understand.