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theres a girl in the corner becoming a black hole as everything about you consumes her.

home is where the drug dealer is.

with a doll headed sigh her dress was torn from his crown of thorns between her thighs

when everything falls up into place unto the shelf of memories gold plated plastic trophies of bad decisions past who had colgate smiles and drove SUV's to their lovers houses while their wives baked them apple pies and bought them anniversary sets of golf clubs and hallmark patented emotions.

coldblood boiling

this nectar of fortune is yours to taste and figure out how to swallow. i hope it favors you

i am the animal

i yearn for the sinew and the lace, that composes your delicate frame. 

the ritual of defeat is to pray to your god.

but you

you dont breathe a word

i dream of fur matted with forest of blood i dream of waking you

we will never run together

a coward is isolated and destroyed

fake it to feel alive

fingertips that ache to touch the edge of your bed with such a sudden perversion to be cheek to cheek with you, wounded breathing, your laugh, muted by a milligram, the tilt of your head, awkward, I allow your forehead to fall forward, caught by my chest.

and you dont know me by just drowning in my eyes. you need to really lose yourself to crawl under my skin.

times square is burning. and the scene is euphoric, i lose myself in these bass lines and bottles of alcohol here, we were never meant to touch, i was never made to make it out of your bed alive.

peruvian lady, somebody's baby isnt coming home tonight

he said, " Do what you do best, swallow, and forget".

the way we think, it interferes with the way we breathe

my hands start to shake as the black horse lifts his head towards the north

my options are weighed and injected,

the great nosebleed to make me a martyr comes

and the tracks that i follow home, scar

them bones draped in a mess of makeup and chanel no.5 , the way you walk and place your hands on my face changes the minute you get paid to fuck. but even showing my insides, dosent expose me, nothing exposes this fucking mess like a needle and a headboard thats easy to get a grip on.

the smell of soil, the spilt milk on the kitchen floor, a girl becoming a black hole in the corner as everything about you consumes her.

wolves at the reception

Mirth, rolling papers, Old tattered books that fall apart when you pick them up and every fiber of your being feels like this could be the one to change your life, your muse with a paper spine and a dust jacket.

babygirl, you nose is bleeding

your god wraps his hands around my throat in the mirror

he opens my mouth for me, tasting like vodka soaked shaking fits and rug burned knees. take me home, my teeth are chattering, oil and honey, honey and mud.

this isnt me, im not mechanical.

whiskey and cigarettes

im pretty stuck on the idea of walking out your front door just to disappear. 

im currently downloading La Vie en Rose. 

it gets harder and harder to keep my hands off of you.

my thighs drip and release your offering, your communion. i kneel at your altar. the sheets have stained.