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


and the set was still on

and the lemon was still on

the counter..

flowing bitterness

and I pinched it, and  I thought


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.