angst

Nightmares

You broke

down

You wrestled

demons

the demons

won

You fought

the good fight

and lost everything

in the war

You fell

in love

and died

the same day

You dreamed

and monsters

sprang forth

But know there is no darkness

immune to light

and nightmares

do not last

forever.

 

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Palace of the Swine

You are not as beautiful as I remember
but I was not always her
And you were not so indifferent
Whatever things painful or true
Change to please our master time
You’re not as beautiful as I remember
but you will always be my king
In the palace of the swine.

Nowhere near Nirvana

The wheels turn

but we go nowhere

Spin, spin spin circles shugah

the hamster wipes the bloody spunk off of his face

Keep running, you’re nowhere near

Nirvana

She could be the death of me

but you can’t kill

what’s already dead

He said it with a cigarette bouncing between his teeth

a needle-prick muse,

a noose around his neck

Tongue these open sores

they taste like  popped cherries

when you’ve still got some good tunes up your sleeve

Sadly they’ll bury you before your blues will every play

on the radio

The white trash angel in black eyeliner

will stretch her bleached anorexic wings and shout

Hide the shotgun

save the American icon

But it was already too late. 

Tail Feathers

I had dreams 

stacked up like dominoes

and an itchy trigger finger-

I would have liked to have

wrapped you around

But you see, I can laugh at myself

I can laugh at anything

given enough time

Even at the storm that swept my heart

out to sea

You could never be controlled

or tamed

or kept in a jar

That was a foolish thing to dream

Still I can pluck your tail feathers 

and dip them in ink

and write about 

what it was like to breath

within the eye of the storm. 

Who are you?

The one headlight is too bright

My head is in the dark clouds

I can roll the windows down

I can turn the radio up 

Wrap my nine inch nails around the wheel

Light a smoke

Choke

I can forget all about you 

My mind is in the silver clouds

The wind is in my hair

Who the fuck are you?

To bring me down

No where to run

The sky is electric

But there is no hope 

of rain

No relief from this heat

The moon is a wound in the sky

The man who lives there tells me

in cuts and scrapes and craters 

I do not matter

None of us matter

I drive the loneliest road

and take her curves too fast

I do not know what is my rush

My house is no longer a home

Her insides are silent 

and empty

her walls are full of fist sized holes

her waters breed mosquitoes 

and are the color of bile

I can no longer stand it here

but I have no where 

to run to. 

Cardiac parts

In the wake of last night’s

Whiskey fists 

 I belly crawled into the mouth of the abyss  

 In search of the remnants of his heart 

 He said keep the cynicism out of my kiss 

and the poison out of my bite

But I liked to play with cardiac parts 

Maybe it was the way it squished in my mouth

Maybe it was the Charles Manson glint in his eye

Maybe we were all meant to murder and fry

Maybe we push the repeat button

over and over again

For I loved the tragic

and he had a thing 

for shitty women. 

Holy rolled cigarettes

She rolls the pages 

of the hotel room’s bible

into skinny cigarettes

Leans back thoughtfully and says

“Fuck it,

everything’s a sin,

you got to make your own paradise.”

Psalms 119 glows and wisps

smoky prayers

around her lips.

I know in this moment there is no eternal reward

worth wasting “right now”

 That red eyed goat bleats and breaths 

down my neck

I scratch him fondly behind the ears

and feed him remnants of Solomon’s songs.

So I’ve got God’s evil eye on my back

just give me one good immaculate fuck

and one of those holy rolled cigarettes…

For the message read

‘we did what we did

so you could live forever.’

Fuck forever

I’ll make my own paradise

right here

right now. 

Cabernet Kiss

There are rumors I do not believe

although the water is warm this night

I cannot see the bottom

where our flesh may gently brush in the darkness

I warn you my blood runs cold

You say the lies I tell myself will be my undoing

and my lips taste like cabernet

There is this painful thing that expands and contracts

beneath my ripcage

Perhaps I should rip it out, 

but there is no escaping you.