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Literature Text
i lost faith in you in august
when the summer sun kept the night lit
when the summer sun kept me awake,
sunburnt and bruised - angry and abused
i was your puppet - and you were my brother
there were gold stars in a blue sky
that night, waiting outside my window
that night, waiting to binge on my smoke
on the 23rd, i don't eat.
SO YOU SAY IT'S YOUR BIRTHDAY?
dun-dun-dun and the carnival goes on.
the theme parks are empty
in my dreams - in the december of my winter
there is one winter left
and decades worth of octobers;
there is no tribute to suicide,
when you know someone who's dead,
you start to rot too - pieces of your heart
start dying and - you'll never be okay again
you'll never be okay again, didn't you realize that daddy?
lose teeshirts - no clothes
pulling strands of hair out - trying to find a crawlspace in my mind
i have a hole in my stomach that your bath water can't fill.
no one NEEDS love,
they all want it.
what they need is drugs and friends
to keep them out of trouble.
you are 17 and my high is dying
you are 16 and you have run away
you are 15 and you're cousins that don't understand each other
i am 14 and
my life is over
and my hell has begun,
i'm just a body now,
no aspirations.
only thc and nicotine
THEY FILL THE HOLES THAT YOU MADE
AND THEY KEEP THE PROMISES YOU BROKE
i would yell if only i could speak,
but graphite can't give you wings.
there is nothing poetic in losing your mind,
get to your job on time,
you sorry junkie.
back to the camera,
you're going to be a star sweetheart.
sweetheart, we could make money.
sweetheart, we could build a life.
sweetheart, i could tell a lie and make you all better.
when the summer sun kept the night lit
when the summer sun kept me awake,
sunburnt and bruised - angry and abused
i was your puppet - and you were my brother
there were gold stars in a blue sky
that night, waiting outside my window
that night, waiting to binge on my smoke
on the 23rd, i don't eat.
SO YOU SAY IT'S YOUR BIRTHDAY?
dun-dun-dun and the carnival goes on.
the theme parks are empty
in my dreams - in the december of my winter
there is one winter left
and decades worth of octobers;
there is no tribute to suicide,
when you know someone who's dead,
you start to rot too - pieces of your heart
start dying and - you'll never be okay again
you'll never be okay again, didn't you realize that daddy?
lose teeshirts - no clothes
pulling strands of hair out - trying to find a crawlspace in my mind
i have a hole in my stomach that your bath water can't fill.
no one NEEDS love,
they all want it.
what they need is drugs and friends
to keep them out of trouble.
you are 17 and my high is dying
you are 16 and you have run away
you are 15 and you're cousins that don't understand each other
i am 14 and
my life is over
and my hell has begun,
i'm just a body now,
no aspirations.
only thc and nicotine
THEY FILL THE HOLES THAT YOU MADE
AND THEY KEEP THE PROMISES YOU BROKE
i would yell if only i could speak,
but graphite can't give you wings.
there is nothing poetic in losing your mind,
get to your job on time,
you sorry junkie.
back to the camera,
you're going to be a star sweetheart.
sweetheart, we could make money.
sweetheart, we could build a life.
sweetheart, i could tell a lie and make you all better.
<sweetheart, i'll bite off your gums and kiss it better.>
high and very very
mad
high and very very
mad
© 2010 - 2024 moonology1
Comments10
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I was 14 when I started smoking pot. I never got as high ever as I did my first time. You come down and it's lower than the last time, trust me. I am here. I'm writing a book about my abusive relationship and it touches on the history (like you've written) that brought me there.