peel back the siding to reveal the frame, knock it down to bare foundations.

the concrete is cold and bare and grey and the snow is falling but the ground hasn't frozen so it just half melts into slush that seeps through your shoes, and you're colder, shivering, but you can't help but stand in the middle of this all and stare in wonder at how simple things look now .

equilibre.

i can't tell if it's a conscious decision to treat me this way, if you are aware of the chain with which you pull me from side to side effortlessly or if it's weightless, as insignificant to you as any other.  

jump, drift, slide from place to place, from one to another.

it doesn't mean a thing.

it doesn't mean a thing. 

your lips on my lips.

and your lips on his. 

.

intelligent. 

.

you're too young. 

.

and i'm too powerless.

.

and i'm strung

and tuned

and played out. 

i cut my tongue on yours

just wait for a taste

my lips are dry and chapped and torn

and stained

but you can't see

your eyes are closed,

because it's not here

and it's not me

you can be happy in...

happiness promised or imagined seems infinitely more interesting than happiness delivered. the mind cannot feel the things it imagines itself feeling as fully as the heart hope, so the only happiness that does not fail to live up to expectations is the one i wasn't expecting. 

skin

these are the words i can't speak, can't read. the page i want to tear out of my note book. 

home.

we scratch at scabs, careful not to bleed to long

but always open, always bare

and another place, another bandage, someone else to stitch me up

but i run to you to bleed it out

home: to that sinking feeling and familiar roads

take the bandage off, let things heal

wear the scar, a mark of pride

i cut the strings that play sad songs

and i'd strangle you with them if i could

but my hands they tremble so

home: to that sinking feeling and familiar roads

you speak in platitudes, i hear fear

you say it's for the best, i loved the worst in you

you say you'll go at last, i won't say no

home: to that sinking feeling and familiar roads

i cut the strings that play sad songs

and I'd strangle you with them if i could

but my hands they tremble so

but my hands they tremble so