silverdagger42

So the angel boy is more than just a fantasy now. Isn't it strange that now that you've been with him you cant' get him off your mind? It's like he's stuck in his roots. Well boy, now you're rooted and you're feeding off me like a shallow weed. But hey, that's fine with me. And for awhile you thought you might be stuck in that hole, but then along came this angel boy who plucked you up and threw you into an even bigger one. But there is something different about this hole. Because whenever he comes by, it's the living end. And you've only kissed him but it was a thousand years of merangue, and you're dying for another lick. Even just o

Don't know how to tell you what I'm feeling. It's autumn. Just autumn. But there's a girl knee-deep in dead leaves, and she knows what I mean. Just gotta say I'm a little lost in all this, like that time we were in Paris, and could only speak love, but french would have been easier, Had that smile on my face, you know the one I mean, thought only you would ever know about it, but it turns out I'm not so good at keeping secrets. Maybe this time. Saw your car the other day, but I didn't look just in case it was you, it's a lot easier this way, you know, I let you go that day, splash in the water like a rock in the ocean tha

Forgot about you last night. Almost. You whirled back like a boomerang and wrapped yourself around my neck. Hey, Boa Constrictor, could you tell me, tell me what you're feeling? 'Cause I'm valium girl right now and these cigarettes ain't doing a thing. My binocular view isn't satisfying this need to know how your day was, so could you, could stop my stuttering and place your tongue in my mind? There's this frog in my throat that doesn't seem to want to jump free, made me green in the face, but it's not about silence anymore. I rolled around in mud again, like Witch Baby, but this time I thought I'd stay there, until you

You're wrapped around me like an old glove, but I've kicked off my boots and the water's waving. Held my breath, 'cause mermaids don't have lungs, Saw you on the surface and I smiled, but it blurred into a rainbow trout and gyrated to the bottom. We started a sea-weed band, but it's music that you can't hear with those land-boy ears. Thought you were my sushi, but I wasn't very hungry, you never liked it anyways, so I'll play guitar with a carp because we can't find a drummer. Met a crab the other day, who told me, "You've gotta make yourself happy," so I'm living in a shell, because I'm so scared of all those sharks. Sow

My Arizona Girl, she's standing in the desert, knee-high boots making her sweat, curtain hair shielding those eyes, the ones that made me cut class every morning, just to be with her. Didn't care that she was taken, inside I knew she was really mine. Tatooed my story on her ankle, so he couldn't see it. She keeps it covered now, and those tears in her eyes, are really pictures of our mornings, traffic humming out the window, espresso kisses melting off my lips. Could taste them all day, like a drug, spent my night itching for my fix of her. She called me in the morning, sombre like the moon. This wasn't my Arizona girl,

Ran home to tell you it was you, didn't notice your suitcase at the door, and in blushing tears I scaled the stairs, my lungs won't thank me for this, but you always told me you loved my stubbornness. It took me a little while, but I did it, Just like you said, I realized that word. I won't say it now, because the last time I did, the civil war burned down my house. Had a rendezvous with the sunset, head back like when you kissed me, but this time it was the wind, and his lips aren't quite as warm as yours. Stared at your back as you walked away, your silhouette isn't quite so romantic without me, but image was never your p

He's the writing on my back, Didn't want to make it permanent, you know, it's harder to remove than it was to scribble down. He wrote the thesis to my story, guess I took his word for it, I should have read it over, but he breathes poetry easier, than my smoke-filled lungs. Exhaled into winter, and watched the words form, but simple limericks could never match his tapestries. Lit them on fire with my cigarette, and tried to inhale that essence. Saw him smiling in the center, satisfied that he'd read me, flipped open my pages, and took a peek inside. Thanked him for not spoiling the ending, because I knew he was my plotline

Told you it didn't effect me, but inside I died a little, withered like an april snowman. Splashed when you walked through me, like I was just water, but even puddles have to go somewhere. Hid behind my umbrella when you walked by, I guess your jacket fits her better. Wondered if you used the same script with her, I helped write that, you know. I thought because you loved the rain, our souls might fit together, but you changed your locks, and left me out in the cold. Looked in from outside, and longed to dry my hands by your fire, wrap myself in your blankets, wrap myself in your skin, memorize your freckles, only to discov