temporary-delusion

Impressions on the glass, And blurred faces through the mist, Leave lonely figures standing, But markings on a list. Their walls are full of memories, A booklet to the past, This room is darkened, hollowed, By the shadows secrets cast. These delusions of insanity And frightful visions cause The scars upon my arms, And the pills inside my drawers. Grab the glass and sever, Your human thoughts and fears – To feel the pain and searing Is to know your mind's still here. And leave those bottles broken, Upon the window sill with light Sorrow cracks the smile, But shadows charm the night. Inhale the smoke, surre

Life will come and Love will pass Nothing gold was made to last Memory will always fade Leaving room for brighter days If measured by the setting sun Truths and love will stay unknown Speak to shadows, watch rivers run Chase the moon into the sun Spread your soul and fly away Dream this dream another day

And from that wound, my Love; it ran, From my heart, and through my hand Dripped among the sandy sun Mixing most, but leaving some. The shore and lines and wishes there Blew around my salt-stained hair All the sights and sounds and cares I left upon their silken chairs Until my soul was light and free Leaving what was best of me And breathing in I leapt from life Took to water, abandoned light Silence blessed my troubled mind Finding death is soft and kind My eyes were left, staring up At the sun I never loved My hair was spread and arms were wide I seemed to dance, with the tide And clouds and sky through shifting waves Be

[fuck] all of them. [fuck] their love. [fuck] their helplessness and [fuck] their hopelessness.                                                           their stupidity.                               

Give me enough to chase out these demons To banish my thoughts, to calm my fears Pour me a glass And fuck all reason Light up the darkness – Shatter these mirrors I've tried to escape the world and its glory Easy lies and shadows are all that it's known So turn up the music And tell me a story Shelter the truth; I'm not ready to know It's not enough to smile and shine through a lifetime In order to laugh, you must know how to cry Light up the candles Close all the curtains Night has descended, I'll teach you to lie Break the reflections as they shine from the mirrors Fuck all things that have never been said I know that

Passengers of her memories Walk shakily down the tracks, Where trains carrying happiness Used to rumble through her past Each step among the broken rail Leaves footprints in the rust - Where once the track was golden, The golden now is dust Her masses moving forward, Though there's no direction here, Are caught within her misery Consumed by hate and fear Infected are her memories Her mind is broken, lost Her trains, trapped in motion Her tracks begin to rot And nothing can reopen Now empty is her soul Mind forever broken Her memories must go.

spending long nights between your arms, knotted limbs counting the stars, she'd listen as that car would start. you drove away, she fell apart. ticking clocks and dancing trees, they pass these winter days with ease but she is left alone to breathe with no one but herself to bleed. once there lived a little girl with matchstick legs and hair that curled. they watched her shattered heart unfurl that night she almost outran the world. she looks in that mirror and what does she see? empty eyes and nicotine teeth. doesn't matter they say she's pretty you're the only one she wanted to please. so she'll gloss her eyes and trim her h

i knew a ballerina girl who turned pirouettes on one strong-boned toe, with jutted ribs and hipbones that became the perfection I craved. she taught me of the gap between her thighs, and how to get it, the matchstick legs i wanted more than love or money. i turned to devices that promised to pay me in bones, watching the numbers tick by with every uneaten morsel 101, 100, 99. 98. 97. when I wasn't avoiding food, I was stuffing my face, and turning to the porcelain mouth of the toilet for comfort. it was only later that I saw that ballerina girl without her slippers, and saw the blood and bruises, dripping from her battered toe