I wish to speakI wish to speak honestly, But my body shakes like palsy, If I asked would you answer me? Would you go, would you go willingly?I wish to speak
Gentle tug of the belt, Just strong enough to be felt, Solid enough to make you melt
That collar, Over soft shoulder lain, Perfectly arrayed, Earring caught in the way.
Caught once, then twice, It would be so nice, To travel through the night, Setting everything right.
Don't SpeakDon't speak, just sit, Let me admire every feature of you face, How the shadows delicately trace, Every line and every curve,Don't Speak
Fluidly dancing in and between, Heartbeats and secrets, Kept locked within an iron box, Never wishing to be freed.
Maybe we'll meet by the coast, Or you'll venture to the hills, Maybe you'll love me, Or this is all a fantasy.
Sitting Atop A ShelfSitting atop a shelf, Letting my legs dangle, All the world spins below, Turning, churning, 'neath my toes.Sitting Atop A Shelf
Shallow is the sea, And deep the sky, Holding all the beasts at bay, Muffling their wild cries.
Let me step, not once but twice, Into the fading lime light, Which has flashed, it fades, Colors, leaving only a pale shade.
To cross that cold river, With a coin in my mouth, To pay my tith, Into euphoria I slip.
I Loved TwelveI fell in love with twelve Goddesses, Who tore me inlyrically apart, Then devored me peice by shattered peice. Now I'm within them for all day and night.I Loved Twelve
Ripped apart and borne back again, Caught in a razor blade's trance, A rock for my head to smash, And a pit for my heart to stash.
Golds, silver, and ivories, Held by a cricket's wings, As he leaps and flees, From the jay soaring through the trees.
I can no longer feel my leg In the cool water you left me in, Will you come for me in May? Or shall I wait once again for Autumn.
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A Machete is all I need to ease your sorrow
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A Machete is all I need to ease your sorrow
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I don't care if I fall as long as someone else picks up my gun and keeps on shooting. - Che Guevara
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I don't care if I fall as long as someone else picks up my gun and keeps on shooting. - Che Guevara
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