MCXIII [lyrics]

An invitation, to unmarked skin

To carve out our own way

A permanent ornament

That symbolizes “someday”

You can’t have it all, but you want it all,

So you say what you must say

You won’t trade your crown in for a gown

So how can I serve you today?

It isn’t me, it isn’t me

I am not host to a slave

Lucky thirteen, lucky thirteen

Skulls on our arms can’t be faked

You faked

Fake

The Way You Deserve, Part I

Only you have your figure,

No one else has your shape.

Curse my eyes for their blatant lies

They present to me not what I want to see.

I am here, you are here.

We are not.

In the billowing meadows,

In the autumn chill,

Over there, I

I want to speak to you

With you

I can hear the churning of vapid pleasantries,

The coy flirtation of thinly veiled wants,

Sex-driven lips spreading wide into a smile,

Welcoming the carnalities of another.

I am hollow, full of hollow wants,

Give them all to me.

“I can’t love you the way you deserve.

I can’t spoil you into submission

Nor cradle the child within,

I can’t give you a mother’s love

And a lover’s want,

I can’t.

And I will tell you I am sorry.

I will tell you what you need to hear.”

I’ve known this.

A Snake Once Told Me [lyrics]

A snake once told me

“I need to own you,

Body, mind, and soul.

The fruit I come bearing

It’s all yours.

Come lay your weary head

Atop voluptuous soft…

Let’s share each other’s fangs

All mine, and mine alone”

Once the fever hit my brain,

Sweated and shivered in numb ecstasy

Sleek silver skin penetrates

A lonely line of lust

and selfish love is shedding into some lungs, I’m

Choking, choking, choking, choking.

A snake once told me.

Goddess of night, succubus of my whims

I’m dragged into your cosmic shrine,

Riddled with objective sin

I need to feed on these vocal scraps

And these forced willful visions, I’m

Choking, choking, choking, choking

A snake once told me:

“It’s all your fault

You’re all alone

It’s all your fault,

If only you just….

It’s all you’re fault,

So kill yourself now”

Now, kill me now.

Negation Permittance

You will find yourself one day,
Confined within a coffin
Surrounded by everlasting nothingness.
Your lungs expelling life
In exchange for dread
So you recollect all the things you are thankful for.
You are.
You
You.
I.

Dreams
Life
Oxygen
Women
Death
Misery
Black
Words
Romance
Intelligence

The feminine

Your blood will start to cook
And your eyes will begin to swell.
Your brain will feel heavy
And you’ll recount your favorite songs
Death is death.

Then you’ll take a sharp inhalation
Of dry, busy air
And come to see that you aren’t confined.
You are blessed.
You have all those things you are grateful for.
Nothing is gone but the dead.
So why is death still death?

OCD

Relax.

One, two, three, four, five.

Fight it.

Expel the feeling, make it pure.

Let it go.

Fuck you.

Fight it

Okay, you’re done.

Less Less [lyrics]

Shake,

Shake me now, tell me I’m here

In this body, surrounded by love

Break,

Break the sounds so that I hear

Breathy nothings, or lack thereof

Hope, hope for cherry

Bombs blossoming

Hope for the end of wanting wanting

In the 4am glint off the window,

In the white noise hiding in my stereo,

In the tainted skin of my second home,

I want less less

Black,

Purple, pink are your eyelids

Starry specter from a dead bedroom

Mute,

Mute your speak so it’s candid

Blaring so bright, obfuscate the womb

Hope, hope for cherry

Bombs blossoming

Hope for the end of wanting wanting

I’m suspended in disconnect

(Less talk, less truth)

I’m suspended in disconnect

(Less calm, less couth)

In the 4am glint off the window,

In the white noise hiding in my stereo,

In the tainted skin of my second home,

I want less less

From the bar to the grave

From the holes you concave

Disconnect me, disconnect you

I don’t want to, I don’t want to

I’m suspended in disconnect

(Less talk, less truth)

I’m suspended in disconnect

(Less talk, less truth

Less calm, less couth)

In the 4am glint off the window,

In the white noise hiding in my stereo,

In the tainted skin of my second home,

I want less less

Tolerable Allowance

Nobody said it wasn’t as captivating anymore.
It’s the smell of morning coffee
Directly in front of your face.
It’s the feeling of being hungry
After a night of drinking.

It’s the satisfaction of
Being unsatisfied.

It’s the calm in the air,
The quiet nothing of the morning,
The green, all of the green,
The greenery surrounding.
Encapsulating,
Swallowing,
Taking

The man made beauty.
The challenge of it all
You didn’t build this.
But you get to enjoy it.
You get to.
Allowance.
Tolerable allowance

Someone’s always giving you something,
Or taking just away enough to keep you hungry
You are the dog.

Hedonistic Ignorance

I’ll find you in that same hole,
The same one your mother had once dug
And your brothers had chosen to spit in
To make it warm.
I’ll find you there and lay beside you,
Cold.
Cold dirt,
Cold limbs,
Cold breath.
And I’ll get right out.
You have no other.

Piercing ear drum shapes the silence
Beating back and forth in your skull,
Puncturing your brain with incessant dead
Dead nothing, dead dirt, dead silence.
You’ll grab at my nape,
Sink your nails into my throat,
Claim I was never the victor,
And slip back into that hole.
Slip back into that hole.
Back into that hole.
Into that hole.
That hole.
Hole.

I once held a feral being,
It gnawed at my palms as it scrambled
To get away,
Too narrowed by its own existence to realize
That I was the only thing holding it up
From oblivion.
It gnawed until I bled.
It broke the flesh, it tore the ligaments,
It ravaged muscle, cracked the bone.
I just held it tighter.
Until it broke through,
And fell into
Avoidable
Oblivion.

Suspended In Disconnect

I've heard it said that silence is
The sum of all wisdom and all strength, but
We're locked in tension because of it,
Your voice is just a memory.
The clicks and beats of many things
Surround, alleviate at any length, but
Anxiety comes right after it, says
"Is anyone listening?"

Floating

In this body, I can admit to
Feeling
A bit lucid, a bit dreamy.
Apathy for survival,
To succeed
To distance myself from myself from myself
From

Collectively conscious, albeit hopeful
I have successfully detached
This
From me
Whether it’s the pain of wanting
Or the melancholy from giving up
Both are fine. Both are contrived.

Is this success?