Word Vomit
For sure this motley lot is imbued with the essence of
tantacular tarantulas taunting typhoid fever while
killing me softly with his song most strange colloquial vernacular liaisons
slipping slipping slipping away from you is better than with someone else like
Ghandi eating nothing at all this sick psychotic breakdown fragmenting minds altruism played the fool buried the hatchet never once asking forgiveness giving only regret blessed summer sparrows flight to Capistrano, will you wait for me this night?
the lights have all gone out.
The ziggurat speaks to me of slow sweetness falling all around up and down lost around the time it took to read a book written in the dark by a man seeking blindness finding only the truth in its purest form
stolen silent storms raging teardrops filling phials fastness sealing thoughts defiled leaden bookcases trailing trials it all falls down the grave as death smiles
part ways and share words we all play the game as night passes rose colored glasses reflect the light that haunts your name through mist and shadows ringing gallows the story girl will come today bringing flaxen flowers we
while the hours while pale light gleams as the winter that came through the door of the house with less noise than a mouse or a Grinch stealing Christmas the grayness did creep frosty cold, frosty death, frosted light bulbs to your health molten sunlight living memories calling from the depths clamoring to be heard voiceless eyes burning holes in my head screaming in the nothing that once was so much where I lived there in comfort with warmth filling me, killing me I, tried to stop all the pain and the gain but rage is a bitter master buried deep in my soul filing cracks crannys and holes longing for vengeance sweet bitter release telling tales of the glory lying just out of reach where I kicked to the curb all the plans long laid to rest skipping stones floating on this black lake in my head will you stop? Will you falter? Will there be a last stand? I need hope that in ending, Ill never find you again.
tantacular tarantulas taunting typhoid fever while
killing me softly with his song most strange colloquial vernacular liaisons
slipping slipping slipping away from you is better than with someone else like
Ghandi eating nothing at all this sick psychotic breakdown fragmenting minds altruism played the fool buried the hatchet never once asking forgiveness giving only regret blessed summer sparrows flight to Capistrano, will you wait for me this night?
the lights have all gone out.
The ziggurat speaks to me of slow sweetness falling all around up and down lost around the time it took to read a book written in the dark by a man seeking blindness finding only the truth in its purest form
stolen silent storms raging teardrops filling phials fastness sealing thoughts defiled leaden bookcases trailing trials it all falls down the grave as death smiles
part ways and share words we all play the game as night passes rose colored glasses reflect the light that haunts your name through mist and shadows ringing gallows the story girl will come today bringing flaxen flowers we
while the hours while pale light gleams as the winter that came through the door of the house with less noise than a mouse or a Grinch stealing Christmas the grayness did creep frosty cold, frosty death, frosted light bulbs to your health molten sunlight living memories calling from the depths clamoring to be heard voiceless eyes burning holes in my head screaming in the nothing that once was so much where I lived there in comfort with warmth filling me, killing me I, tried to stop all the pain and the gain but rage is a bitter master buried deep in my soul filing cracks crannys and holes longing for vengeance sweet bitter release telling tales of the glory lying just out of reach where I kicked to the curb all the plans long laid to rest skipping stones floating on this black lake in my head will you stop? Will you falter? Will there be a last stand? I need hope that in ending, Ill never find you again.
posted by Shaihulud at 10:04 pm
2 Comments:
i like your words. i left my cell phone at work again :P
yay for having my phone back! and for the weekend! i got your name...what do you want for christmas? wait. i'll ask kristi. so tell her. that way it's indirect. i don't know why that matters, but it does.
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