Untitledwe are in Rome telling the dirt how it murdered its brother.Untitled by iwasearnestonce
we are shouting at every historical monument from the books with affection and insult and nobody cares about yesterday.
"he wants to kill himself but he just writes a lot of stories with sad endings. don't talk to him."
i believe in love now. i don't know if i've grown up at all or learned from my mistakes or just lost and lost and lost. i'll write something. i'll write you stories. i'll mean it. i'll run away and never come back. some things never change.
"well the boy was found to have consumed the full body of a small mouse, a penny, broken glass, dirt, whisky... then hanged himself."
i am an abandoned house, i am here, i am still here.
2:16my head feels like the walls werent goddamn sound proofed right, and it hurts.2:16 by iwasearnestonce
but if you really wanna know.... and our narrator goes on to sound much like holden caulfield... lets be holden caulfield.
when what everyone came to see was a vampire writing lolita.
i thought i knew who i was oncewe exist in small sparse breathsi thought i knew who i was once by iwasearnestonce
and it will be the death of you
because existing- is not enough
and trying to save your own soul
is like that moment
when you think you could jump in front of
but you don't
so instead you board
and sigh in your seat
licking up mock adrenaline
honey laced with cocaine.
we are all about the drugs
when we're slipping through the cracks
like puke down a drain.
but this is not about drugs
or any of the stigma
mind altering intoxication entails-
i was an addict
before the chemicals
it was the shaking in the bedroom,
the bloodying of the walls,
scrapes and scars,
fingers down your throat now,
dont eat so you'll be floating down the street
and oh look down on the
it was the
let me tell you something dear,
i am not a poet
and never was
i'm a kid who doesn't know
how to shut up
my own tongue.
so i try to make you swallow it instead.
i am marred.
.lick your wounds if you have to, it's not my job to stop you.. by iwasearnestonce
grin and bear it, your grandmother said. but you've fallen time and time again, it's bitten through the flesh. since when did you take advice, from the likes of them?
if you had ten dollars and a packet of pills, you'd be afraid of not coming back. you lie in the wreckage, the mess you've made- why the hell would you act like that?
tell me your life is a movie frame, tell me you've lost your claim to fame. tell me you've given up hope. tell me your room is filthy. blame it on the stress, forget to mention the dope.
if you have died so many times
what do you have to lose?
sandstormthere is sand in my teethsandstorm by ohsostarryeyed
from days i don't remember;
hot-sun deserts singeing
the hairs on the back of my neck,
feet back from burns:
i know what it's like
playing with fire.
i know how to perch
like birds on my thin toes
along a wire,
i know the electricity
coursing through the rubber,
a centimetre from death:
i have yet to fall.
on precarious precipices,
i am wondering if my wings still work,
or if i've purged them out;
if they've atrophied from my back,
or filled with bile.
the sand shifts
and i am looking at bone.
a skeleton, full and articulate.
the desert has charred him black;
his skin has burned away.
in his teeth
he will never remember.
how to stagnatethe best way to stayhow to stagnate by ohsostarryeyed
miserable is to hate