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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Terminate the wrist. The vile will fill in due time. As a cell to a lip, a cup to the mouth. As the water falls, does the spirit in me. Terrorism is imagination. Terrorism is the memory of a facile elation. As the razor to the chin, groom yourself a chap. As the scent of her lingers, bury it in your snuff. Turn the camera on. And turn the tiles red. By the time morning comes. A spirit is free, and this body is at rest. A fist to my temple, is not enough, to teach me about loss. A wrench to my strongest instinct, is not enough, to teach me trust. Turn the gears of this ship of a body, to full, it is full of rust. Keep your mouth shut, in the ears of lovers. If you thought there was ever a chance, that this boy would ode. Ode to it Owe to it. Owned by it. Totalitarian cry for help, on a digital mainframe. Fall on the ear of the deaf. Every tile is exactly the same. But the red in my brain. Bleed. And watch it breed. A new devil in the darkest of yet to come, of me. Darling (Part 2) The eyes part, the sun has given me another day. My lips are dirty of the wine I drank over years toward this haze. Darling Dark, cry for help. Doesn't this feel like the loss of a reptile brain? Darling dark, cry for help. In vain. Nonetheless. The day is controlled by me I don't have a car, I have scars, and a piano with a pair of teethe. I bear them at the great empty on the ceiling fan. It's sharp clatter, won't send me back to a permanent slumber. Darling Dark, of this plead. Schizophrenia is my wildest heed, Sure sure, and then some. . I'll never take heed. I don't have the balls. I've got too much respect. To end thee. So send a hitman, who kills strangers. I'll give him my piano, and the nails off of my fingers climbing up the walls. Toward that empty, I swore I saw once had a substance like cocaine. It numbs only one thing. Nothing, in me. Honey to the sticky, of the slumber slobber release. That to beat it at a scarecrow memory. I will end something, call the police.
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