

I've Never Been So Tired.Dogs snap and froth behind a wooden fence. Only silhouettes of bristling spitting pacing restless instinct. There's a rage shoving it's way through my apathy and deadened reflexes. Ink pools in my cupped hands, dripping through my broken fingers onto concrete. Vines crawl slowly up my ankles, twisting their way onto my swollen skin. A crescendo of melancholy and the whitest of lights. Feedback like a landslide rips it's way down the street. My lips crack and bleed and my chest is stained red. Every slipped syllable screams out in perfect rhythm. Scars are reopened and bruises rise to witneI've Never Been So Tired.


I love. Oh, how I love.A tornado of dead leaves and lost mittens Standing in a year stained orange from the ending of a season My dear friend, where have you gone?I love. Oh, how I love.
Left here, I am forever the restless one
The water's too hot and the fire's too cold Scraps of paper meant to comfort all the lonely hearts He had an hour to kill and no one better to kill it with My dear girl, what to make of your intentions?
Left here, I am forever the apathetic one
A threadbare winter coat No more, no less, no less, no more What a pity to see you go, even more if you had stayed My dear


Rewind: I Always Meant ItSometimes you just need someone to say "stop", Please, scream it in my face. I'm looking in the mirror. Cut it up to oblivion, don'tlookdon'tlookdon'tlook. For the love of God, look. Take these pathetic attempts at living and tell me the truth. Any truth at all. A eulogy I never meant for a departed I never met. This smoke, these pills, my sorrows' lungs will burst. Shredded upholstery and drawers of beads and change. A postcard from France--"I loved you once but never again." Yeah? Well, I hated you once but never again. I left all hope on the side of hill. BottlesRewind: I Always Meant It


Hidden In Dresser DrawersShe walked the back streets home last night. Twisting and winding through dimly lit and badly cracked sidewalks.Hidden In Dresser Drawers
Stepping over cigarette butts and trampled mittens. Making up stories in her head for each discarded item. Some semi-stoned street punk with a broken arm stamped out his last hand rolled cigarette of the day. Some blue-lipped and shivering little girl was dragged home by her mother, throwing down her crocheted mitten in protest. What a shame.
She thought of girls flushed scarlet from the freezing water. Air bubbles carrying muted self-effacing eulogies tinged with a nagging hi
| I'm not much of a talent, but this is all I've got. |
I'm really enjoying your gallery so far
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"Aint nobody played the fool like I."
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Tom can't play the harmonica.
"I think that is my life story. Wrapped nicely in a broken stone plate with no real significance and nothing more than an exercise in imagination and craft. Nothing more."
- 'zerocomplex
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"Aint nobody played the fool like I."
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this heart is on fire, and this life is but a dream.
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"Aint nobody played the fool like I."
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"To ja twoj aniol bedzie dobrze
Smiejesz sie? i o to chodzi
Na 1 2 3 4 znikaja wszystkie szmery"
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"Aint nobody played the fool like I."
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