Post by xunpredictablel on Mar 24, 2010 19:42:44 GMT -5
|Title| Untitled.
|Rating| PG13
|Notes| This was just for fun I guess, for a way to spark my old inspired ways. Well, I suppose it worked a bit.
Old, it's all so… OLD!
As I drag my fingertips across the listless page.
Your eyes begin to bore me,
my fingers dancing listlessly across
your familiar face.
I cannot bare to fathom this -
this creeping goodbye to my terrified words.
But none are as terrified as I, as I.
For words make the comfiest friends-
on the darkest, darkest night.
And my darkest nights are lingering -
flitting on my knives. My knives are silently
cowering , cowering on my life. They're
scared to come and cherish me, leak my
blood and phantom - ing is your normal stare….
I'm sick, oh sick of seeing you everywhere.
Love is love and like a duck -
'Tis obvious to know such a thing.
But love is relentless and cowardly at times.
A freak against muse - you please me,
and pleasure inhibits
inspiration.
Can one be truly pleased, however?
Because I've found myself upset,
Your arms come down and smother me,
smother me with ecstasy ,
but… But.. .Something is still missing.
My friendly words have betrayed me,
betrayed. me. silent. ly.
I'll find them someday.
Stumbling and crying, fumbling and sighing.
Incomplete- - incomplete without their
comforting hands.
Their comforting hands find my hips.
Find my hips.
Press me to them. Press. me. to. them.
So I can taste this metallic taste
dancing on my lips.
You're dancing on my lips,
but yours are pressed on mine so tightly -
so tightly that my words are not uttered.
Let me utter?
Let me utter.
But it's not you're fault. It's not your fault, I cry!
As my tears tumble, they stumble down and
I hold you to my breast. To my breast,
close to my heart. My heart - calling to you.
My heart, the true enemy.
My heart, betraying myself
from you,
from muse,
unto -
your eyes I fall.
|Rating| PG13
|Notes| This was just for fun I guess, for a way to spark my old inspired ways. Well, I suppose it worked a bit.
Old, it's all so… OLD!
As I drag my fingertips across the listless page.
Your eyes begin to bore me,
my fingers dancing listlessly across
your familiar face.
I cannot bare to fathom this -
this creeping goodbye to my terrified words.
But none are as terrified as I, as I.
For words make the comfiest friends-
on the darkest, darkest night.
And my darkest nights are lingering -
flitting on my knives. My knives are silently
cowering , cowering on my life. They're
scared to come and cherish me, leak my
blood and phantom - ing is your normal stare….
I'm sick, oh sick of seeing you everywhere.
Love is love and like a duck -
'Tis obvious to know such a thing.
But love is relentless and cowardly at times.
A freak against muse - you please me,
and pleasure inhibits
inspiration.
Can one be truly pleased, however?
Because I've found myself upset,
Your arms come down and smother me,
smother me with ecstasy ,
but… But.. .Something is still missing.
My friendly words have betrayed me,
betrayed. me. silent. ly.
I'll find them someday.
Stumbling and crying, fumbling and sighing.
Incomplete- - incomplete without their
comforting hands.
Their comforting hands find my hips.
Find my hips.
Press me to them. Press. me. to. them.
So I can taste this metallic taste
dancing on my lips.
You're dancing on my lips,
but yours are pressed on mine so tightly -
so tightly that my words are not uttered.
Let me utter?
Let me utter.
But it's not you're fault. It's not your fault, I cry!
As my tears tumble, they stumble down and
I hold you to my breast. To my breast,
close to my heart. My heart - calling to you.
My heart, the true enemy.
My heart, betraying myself
from you,
from muse,
unto -
your eyes I fall.