first you take it then you take it and you take it don’t cry then you make it and you make it don’t you fake it don’t die when you rake it and you rake it then you rake it can’t fly once you break it once you break it and you break it you lie lay buried face down in the dirt buried face down with no shirt buried face down with no name and no face and the hurt of a million shards of glass cutting deep into your pores and you feel like a whore like a whore like a whore and you cry i’m a whore i’m a whore i’m a whore nothing more just a whore just a whore just a whore and the world passes by and they can’t see you cry when you take it just a whore just a whore just a whore and you work like a cog and the cog is in a wheel and you turn until you’re dizzy and you can’t see the reel that’s pulling you into a wave full of debt and you feel so upset because your needs aren’t met they’re beset by a longing for a life you never had and a world you never wanted but you got free with purchase from the merchant’s rear counter behind the counterstrike of opportunities lost feeds lost feelings no healings just butterfly kisses on the mouth of the whore that you feel like when you don’t have enough at the store and you have to swipe the card take the paper take the check missed the bill of intellect thwarted all your self-respect just a piper paying shill to another dollar bill like a whore just a whore nothing more in your pores cutting deep like the hurt of a million shards of glass and it’s fast when the heat strikes your skin like the iron within your blood pumping into your heart beating fast fast faster until the beat is on on on on on on gone gone gone gone gone.
Archive for November, 2008
i’m scared of how open you’re making me
and i don’t know any beautiful way to say it
and i worry when someone affects me
to the point i lose my linguistic fire.
i worry because i always have questions
and i feel like they’re too much to ask
and they stay inside me fizzling and bubbling
until i’m shaken and they shoot out.
will you leave? when? why? how?
does it matter if i know that my tears
can’t make you stay? or i know this
too soon? or i’ve said too much?
this is one of those times where questions