Escape is my birth rite
The prey that escapes
golden manes, and golden eyes
If they are too lazy or tired
Around here there are no lions
Or golden fields, just wolves, at the door
Wolves that have never been hungrier
Take half of my brain, float with it far away
May it bring you luck, float with it far away
Take half of my brain, float far away
Rimbaud escaped, lost his leg, shot to kill, and died knowing he had accomplished things
That no other ever will.
I’m stuck, its sticky, when you take half my brain, don’t ever stop running, cause someday
I may need it again.
I’m still trying to escape.
Hello heaven, it’s me again, in this bar, just talking to you
About disgrace, with lesser words, and smaller understanding
It’s me again, but I’m not ready to enter
I am still cultivating my sins
Shedding human skin with an immortal intuition.
Revolving in circles of smoke at night
To completely forget my days.
Escape is my birth rite.
House of Names
Walked out the door,
Two spaces, two places
Where two faces hide away
We are driving, at 1 am
In silence, music doesn’t fit there
Then loud, jarring sounds
Music then, so loud, the gps was drowned out
Still driving, no idea where we are
And laughing, ignoring right and wrong
Ignoring purpose, cultivating anxiety from love songs
Then we turn around, stop at home
Find my phone, and drive back down the road
It was dead, no point to retrace
But it was done as I have written, even
As the knowledge was in my head
Ending in a diner, because that’s where
Real lives begin, so fucking tired of human skin
Let real life begin.
Driving home, again cold, again snow, again I told
Him its only what you make of it.
Disjointed, intentional, raw bloody lips
Taken to the house of names
After the house you set to flame
And now I search, its sacrilege
But if you read this understand
That I’m not fixed, I’m not fixed (all just pretend)
Your name means wood or grove
I don’t care if this finds you, I want you to know
Because I truly don’t know, I don’t understand
but what he said to me no one else could understand
its the reality of your history, that turns you from boy into man
So I’m looking to the woods from now on
I truly don’t know, but I’m trying to understand
If you find this repetitive, feel free to turn your beautiful head
Your smile, your hair, in love with it all
so unique and imperfect, iconoclastic star
set in the sky, a sign from afar
House of names, house of games
I’m going away soon, but until then
My steps will be left on wooded paths
2 disjointed fuck ups- with heads full of regret.
Trying to understand, where we began
and what to make of these signs
and if I was born to love a stranger
or if im being mislead."
On cycles and red
are so goddamn beautiful
it keeps me up and night
while I’m up
I dwell on things, cycles
I need cigarettes because they smell like my uncle
and remind me of my grandfather
I need you for desperation, need some shape of you to write
nicotene helps me clear my head to write
smoking weed helps open my mind
and for damn sure nothing makes me smoke more of anything than a woman
I wonder if they lead anywhere
or are they just circles
of self loathing and death