OctoberI find you in the solo dolce,a memory twice-removed.I catch my thoughtson the corners of the train windowfour years back,when your name still savoredof maple and rose.I want to ask you--does your finger brush, pause,and curl back on notesthat hold my name?I can halfway breathethe lamplight as(I imagine)your lips purse on recognition,your sigh saturatedwith autumn memory.I'm convinced we bothwish that such chords werestill unpainted with remembranceand first-love connotation--there's breathless beauty inthe first movement butI detest your silhouetteamongst the harmony.Steeping bitter,I resent your aftertaste,stains on a melody.
A Razor's WordsDon't worry little girlI'm not so farI'm just beside your cold empty bedI'm between the papers of your private book inside your dresserYou never forget meI know you think of me constantlyYou know you want meYou always hide me in the darkAnd keep me in the silenceBecause you don't want nobody to know about meOr about our bloody secretYes bloody..You know you want to take meYou hear me calling for youYou like my sound when I fall on the ground like the fine steel I amYou want me to give you pain I knowJust pick me upI promiseI will be gentle, slip softlyAnd fast, you won't feel the hard painYou know you want to feel me cutting under each thin layer of your skinCome onFill your filthy desire with meI'm shiny with odd shapeRusty with rotten blood stains on my edgesSharp and all you want to comfort your dead soul withDon't be scared, for all you want is to feel numbAnd I can make you feel good and lostAs you are always walking confused in your own dark and cloudy
People are not medicineI will thaw out myfrozen ice box of a chestfor youI will pump and resurrectthe dead tissuesso I can write about youI will write about yourdrug store Romeo smileand the way youhold your hands behindyour head like its the onlything that will stop itfrom rolling off your shouldersI will write about the wayyour eyes crinkle in the cornersand the way your dimples are unevenwhen you laughI will write about thetiny vampire footprintsyou leave on my skin at nightwhen we're sat outsideon the sidewalkcontemplating Aristotle and CobainLike bleary eyed philosophersI will write about the wayyour fingers flex when you're excitedand how your kneejitters when you're nervousand how you likelonely placesbecause they're so much moreintimatethan movie theatres and shopping mallsI will write about youuntil I run out of wordsand I'm sorryI'm not poetic enoughto cover the breadth ofyour firecracker soulbut I hope you knowthis is the bestI can doand I hopethat's enou
Perspectives"A coward! A coward!"The people cry."Only a coward would take their own life!"When alone in the bedroomthe middle of night,A coward, a cowardsilently cries.Their body goes limp;they put down the knife;rock back and forthfor the rest of the night.A coward, a cowardcould not end their life.