Late night again Coffee overdose Trembling Fall through the door Crawl to the bed. Moon spies on me. Gossiping I'm too tired for. On the bridge of quiet Peer over the edge You want to jump You might fly Tonight Dry erase smile Like cigarette smoke Someday it'll kill you At least, that's what you hope. Don't let on, how much it hurts. Show it off, this smile's rehearsed. But-- at midnight You can meet your dreams for a cup of coffee Somewhere inbetween Somewhat slurred Just the way you like it. The world ended yesterday and nobody cared. Nobody saw you fight for your life. Every time is an addict's last time Deepthroat entropy I will feel better when everyone is dead Scratch until your makeup's ruined Crime scene favorite "No thanks, I have enough trouble breathing." Osiris got pieces of himself, collecting the shards and the splinters from the sands and the dirt. They harvested my soul while I was still alive Recognize it in the writings and delirium Fake your death in an ashtray Paragraph heroin Conclusions are illusions **Everything is funneled through technology, the consummate middleman. They need an app to do anything these days. Can't just make a phone call.** Every conversation ends the same way, the same cliches, the commonplace, the archetypes. No escape Drama queen Tears are expensive. Mask of grief for a life well lived. I don't trust my parents I don't trust myself Someone unmake me already. I'll get through this and life will be alright on my own. I hate all of them, but I am the center of my hate. I am the captain of this trainwreck life. I just need to lie a little longer, keep it all together. I don't know what to think. I don't trust myself Goddamn gaslighting. Cutting is too inconvenient Death is irreversible. But there are times when I don't care anymore. When are you going to admit there is something incredibly wrong with you? Resting my head in the crook of my arm, listening to my creaky bones. I'm okay now, the mask is back on, the numb unthinking adult is here to obey. I'm still 12. Growing up is hard. I got delayed, retarded. Do you think there's a heaven? Do you think any of us are going to make it there? Petulant child It's not a crime Weak imbecilic navelgazing I've got a watery soul Skeptical and confused Trust is accidental and painful. I won't let God let me down. The sting of tears The flush of shame The naked hate The bitter laugh The last straw in the basket case The truth comes out Ugly and true All fucks have flown Sobbing, heaving wreck Incompetent, pathetic child All your friends have abandoned you, ghost And it'll be this way forever. Dry your tears, get back to work. Don't tell anyone. You don't want to be seen as crazy, do you? Illegitimate feelings. Take your beating standing up. All my stuffing's gone. I guess I'll just wait until I have the right reason to kill myself. Death to the future Death to the now. Cannibal soup for the emo soul It's CONTENT CONTENT CONTENT! Life is to be lived in the eyes of others, you exist to be observed (preserved). Why else would you have a website? You make my throat ache Heart throb Numb and hot and flexible and confused There's nothing to do but give in to the emotion, So give in I am a delusion of my conjoined wife-sister who lies buried asleep in me, and when she wakes up I will cease to exist (good fucking riddance). This has nothing to do with queers and everything to do with me. TASTEFUL DISSOCIATION Acceptable, blase hatreds and politics purchased and sold Fuck your average I AM PERFECTION I'm not dead inside, I'm oozing and squishy and very very vulnerable I WANNA BE A PRINCESS despair don't usually wear a broken face. Status: functional Dead eyes see, all glassy and opaque Give up on normal behavior, revert to mimicry and apeshit screams (Oh, THAT's what a mental breakdown sounds like) JUST. GIVE. UP This website will self-destruct in 2 moon cycles. I don't know what year I'm in ") VIOLENCE! EVERY TIME! The webmaster isprobablydead Cyanide Circus A mutual emotional support and/or abuse gang cult I have faith in your wrist cutting abilities! Remember to have fun, kids! *slaps kalashnikov* Now give 2 million of these babies to some angry, illiterate peasants and watch NATO get rekt Who needs to eat when I can manufacture bullets? Reduce it all to a black smear on canvas. No more noise. No design No portrayal No meaning Just black And white I want to kiss the canvas and crush it into my chest and fold it up in my skin, rub it into my clothes, absorb it into my body, dirty dirty incest cannibal. I made you, now I will eat you and wear you but you are not mine, you are not me, I made you but we are not the same and we will be forever separated, me and my dear creation. Thereisadistancebetweenthewordsthatshouldbestretchedbutwhatpauseiscorrectwhereshouldthelinebedrawnwheredoesonewordendandanotherbegin?norwordsnorsentencesnorlinesnorparagraphspageschaptersbooksdaysweeksmonthsyearslivesgenerationsrealitiestruths--just tell me where to stop, how to communicate the personal pauses where you won't mangle them with your subjective. I want to say it right, but I don't know how to make you listen, vulnerable, like me, to my cadences and statements, to my broken explanations, squirreled truths and feathered lies, to nib tips and bared fists, to my feeble inspiration and hopeless indignation. Mmm. Shitty situation. Pessimism is protection from hope. This life is but a passing-by Under the guillotine we sleep Waking hurts the newborn eye But worse are the lies we keep How often do we fantasize For a single moment of freedom Then turn around and live inside A rotten house of cards. With your mouth shut tight and your eyes closed forever How can you die? You're already dead. It hurts to do it It hurts more to avoid it for a lifetime. Now everyone can get intimate with your thoughts from the back of your computer! Perhaps you've never eaten to excess. Eat to exist, eat to consume, better and greater things. Consumption is all there is, and creation is just the continuance of consumption, the pride of creation and joy of consumerism (aside from the bitter taste of failure and inadequacy). Meaningless, insipid, caught in a stupid cycle, really just feeding your addiction, gnawing on a bone and waiting to die. So you stuff yourself until it hurts because cramming empty bullshit into your orifices is the only way you know how to be happy. That sounded deep, like some half-digested pop philosopher lying discarded on the couch before he successfully revealed the meaning of life. It's like a religion, it seems like a magic solution til the morning after when all the words have lost their power. It's just the same plotholes down to preference. Down the inkwell Fetus in a box Develops, rots Liquid putrescence Drips from the corner Chromatic gasoline black Handle with care-- Fragile! Thank you. Delve into my boring homemade atrocities Welcome to my dreams. Let me be someone else I don't have the confidence to be myself So any confidence is unintentional My deepest beliefs are superficial I'll borrow the words while I write And forget who I was by tomorrow night So I publish the words of strangers United by a skeptic's name. Carve your initials into the roof of my mouth And long after you're gone I'll trace the lines with the tip of my tongue Close my eyes, licking your fingers Yes, tasting every fingerprint you left on me Your fingers open my mouth wide and inspire these tired lines, manipulate my mouth and navigate my speech, I am your captive and you silence me with a touch Like how you hold me by the throat even a thousand miles away Until tears come and I slip into my dreams Yes, I'm ready But I love you most when you're no longer beside me. I love you most when it hurts A love you can't escape Even while it drags you down to Hell And you have every reason to let go But you only hold on tighter To the love that causes you so much pain The more I love you, the more it hurts. The more it hurts, the more I must love. Too many heavy hands Laid on the fire Rearrange your face beyond recognition Until you don't know who you are They meant well, but they couldn't fix you Like someone'd done to them Turned inside Unable to reach out World of one One to hate One to love Too involved to see outside. What's yellow, square, and reminds you you exist to work? The shitstained graffities walls of Gomorrah How would you feel about selling the rights to your life? I'd feel like I was selling out God. God's work, I mean. Feelings that should never be explained Caught by the spark of a lighter. I am not an angel. I raped my angel. She is very scared. Don't worry. I am kind with a blowtorch. I trust myself to produce what I would produce. I can't do better than myself. What? Late night again Coffee overdose Trembling Fall through the door Crawl to the bed. Moon spies on me. Gossiping I'm too tired for. On the bridge of quiet Peer over the edge You want to jump You might fly Tonight Dry erase smile Like cigarette smoke Someday it'll kill you At least, that's what you hope. Don't let on, how much it hurts. Show it off, this smile's rehearsed. But-- at midnight You can meet your dreams for a cup of coffee Somewhere inbetween Somewhat slurred Just the way you like it. The world ended yesterday and nobody cared. Nobody saw you fight for your life. Every time is an addict's last time Deepthroat entropy I will feel better when everyone is dead Scratch until your makeup's ruined Crime scene favorite "No thanks, I have enough trouble breathing." Osiris got pieces of himself, collecting the shards and the splinters from the sands and the dirt. They harvested my soul while I was still alive Recognize it in the writings and delirium Fake your death in an ashtray Paragraph heroin Conclusions are illusions **Everything is funneled through technology, the consummate middleman. They need an app to do anything these days. Can't just make a phone call.** Every conversation ends the same way, the same cliches, the commonplace, the archetypes. No escape Drama queen Tears are expensive. Mask of grief for a life well lived. I don't trust my parents I don't trust myself Someone unmake me already. I'll get through this and life will be alright on my own. I hate all of them, but I am the center of my hate. I am the captain of this trainwreck life. I just need to lie a little longer, keep it all together. I don't know what to think. I don't trust myself Goddamn gaslighting. Cutting is too inconvenient Death is irreversible. But there are times when I don't care anymore. When are you going to admit there is something incredibly wrong with you? Resting my head in the crook of my arm, listening to my creaky bones. I'm okay now, the mask is back on, the numb unthinking adult is here to obey. I'm still 12. Growing up is hard. I got delayed, retarded. Do you think there's a heaven? Do you think any of us are going to make it there? Petulant child It's not a crime Weak imbecilic navelgazing I've got a watery soul Skeptical and confused Trust is accidental and painful. I won't let God let me down. The sting of tears The flush of shame The naked hate The bitter laugh The last straw in the basket case The truth comes out Ugly and true All fucks have flown Sobbing, heaving wreck Incompetent, pathetic child All your friends have abandoned you, ghost And it'll be this way forever. Dry your tears, get back to work. Don't tell anyone. You don't want to be seen as crazy, do you? Illegitimate feelings. Take your beating standing up. All my stuffing's gone. I guess I'll just wait until I have the right reason to kill myself. Death to the future Death to the now. Cannibal soup for the emo soul It's CONTENT CONTENT CONTENT! Life is to be lived in the eyes of others, you exist to be observed (preserved). Why else would you have a website? You make my throat ache Heart throb Numb and hot and flexible and confused There's nothing to do but give in to the emotion, So give in I am a delusion of my conjoined wife-sister who lies buried asleep in me, and when she wakes up I will cease to exist (good fucking riddance). This has nothing to do with queers and everything to do with me. TASTEFUL DISSOCIATION Acceptable, blase hatreds and politics purchased and sold Fuck your average I AM PERFECTION I'm not dead inside, I'm oozing and squishy and very very vulnerable I WANNA BE A PRINCESS despair don't usually wear a broken face. Status: functional Dead eyes see, all glassy and opaque Give up on normal behavior, revert to mimicry and apeshit screams (Oh, THAT's what a mental breakdown sounds like) JUST. GIVE. UP This website will self-destruct in 2 moon cycles. I don't know what year I'm in ") VIOLENCE! EVERY TIME! The webmaster isprobablydead Cyanide Circus A mutual emotional support and/or abuse gang cult I have faith in your wrist cutting abilities! Remember to have fun, kids! *slaps kalashnikov* Now give 2 million of these babies to some angry, illiterate peasants and watch NATO get rekt Who needs to eat when I can manufacture bullets? Reduce it all to a black smear on canvas. No more noise. No design No portrayal No meaning Just black And white I want to kiss the canvas and crush it into my chest and fold it up in my skin, rub it into my clothes, absorb it into my body, dirty dirty incest cannibal. I made you, now I will eat you and wear you but you are not mine, you are not me, I made you but we are not the same and we will be forever separated, me and my dear creation. Thereisadistancebetweenthewordsthatshouldbestretchedbutwhatpauseiscorrectwhereshouldthelinebedrawnwheredoesonewordendandanotherbegin?norwordsnorsentencesnorlinesnorparagraphspageschaptersbooksdaysweeksmonthsyearslivesgenerationsrealitiestruths--just tell me where to stop, how to communicate the personal pauses where you won't mangle them with your subjective. I want to say it right, but I don't know how to make you listen, vulnerable, like me, to my cadences and statements, to my broken explanations, squirreled truths and feathered lies, to nib tips and bared fists, to my feeble inspiration and hopeless indignation. Mmm. Shitty situation. Pessimism is protection from hope. This life is but a passing-by Under the guillotine we sleep Waking hurts the newborn eye But worse are the lies we keep How often do we fantasize For a single moment of freedom Then turn around and live inside A rotten house of cards. With your mouth shut tight and your eyes closed forever How can you die? You're already dead. It hurts to do it It hurts more to avoid it for a lifetime. Now everyone can get intimate with your thoughts from the back of your computer! Perhaps you've never eaten to excess. Eat to exist, eat to consume, better and greater things. Consumption is all there is, and creation is just the continuance of consumption, the pride of creation and joy of consumerism (aside from the bitter taste of failure and inadequacy). Meaningless, insipid, caught in a stupid cycle, really just feeding your addiction, gnawing on a bone and waiting to die. So you stuff yourself until it hurts because cramming empty bullshit into your orifices is the only way you know how to be happy. That sounded deep, like some half-digested pop philosopher lying discarded on the couch before he successfully revealed the meaning of life. It's like a religion, it seems like a magic solution til the morning after when all the words have lost their power. It's just the same plotholes down to preference. Down the inkwell Fetus in a box Develops, rots Liquid putrescence Drips from the corner Chromatic gasoline black Handle with care-- Fragile! Thank you. Delve into my boring homemade atrocities Welcome to my dreams. Let me be someone else I don't have the confidence to be myself So any confidence is unintentional My deepest beliefs are superficial I'll borrow the words while I write And forget who I was by tomorrow night So I publish the words of strangers United by a skeptic's name. Carve your initials into the roof of my mouth And long after you're gone I'll trace the lines with the tip of my tongue Close my eyes, licking your fingers Yes, tasting every fingerprint you left on me Your fingers open my mouth wide and inspire these tired lines, manipulate my mouth and navigate my speech, I am your captive and you silence me with a touch Like how you hold me by the throat even a thousand miles away Until tears come and I slip into my dreams Yes, I'm ready But I love you most when you're no longer beside me. I love you most when it hurts A love you can't escape Even while it drags you down to Hell And you have every reason to let go But you only hold on tighter To the love that causes you so much pain The more I love you, the more it hurts. The more it hurts, the more I must love. Too many heavy hands Laid on the fire Rearrange your face beyond recognition Until you don't know who you are They meant well, but they couldn't fix you Like someone'd done to them Turned inside Unable to reach out World of one One to hate One to love Too involved to see outside. What's yellow, square, and reminds you you exist to work? The shitstained graffities walls of Gomorrah How would you feel about selling the rights to your life? I'd feel like I was selling out God. God's work, I mean. Feelings that should never be explained Caught by the spark of a lighter. I am not an angel. I raped my angel. She is very scared. Don't worry. I am kind with a blowtorch. I trust myself to produce what I would produce. I can't do better than myself. What?