Pomegranates for SupperPomegranates for SupperYou: the bride that waits and marks the weeksuntil lunacy eats away your brains, takes away your voice, and spreads a sickly smile across your pretty face.Me: the one who holds your bones together with honey and lace; who protects you from the ravens that wish to pick away your eyes and tongue.The one who keeps the maggots from erupting inside your beating heart.There are some I can't stop from coming.Under the march of screams I must let them push through your soft flesh; I will watch as it flexes against their faces and teeth and fingers; I will cry as they slice with their claws
You Can't Hang RegretsYou Can't Hang Regrets (In Picture Frames)Faces smile from behind glass wallsMe, they mock.Makes it so hard not to cry.No more milkshakes or fishnet tights.Careful what I wished forand I carefully got to know you.Strung beaded memories and wore them proudly.Now inhale the stagnant air between fake laughs and façades.So hold your breath.Let crayons melt to the backseat.Laugh at camels that walk in parking lots.X marks the spot to us seeing.The problem is: you can't feeland I don't know how to think.I needed your grace to remind me of summer timeand dancing on moonlit sand.Now I can barely look at you.
And thanks, and your welcome lol
RAWK on.