Thursday, September 27, 2012
miserable postcards
When I'm gone
there will be silence
but right now
there is noise
there will be no dreams
no music, no laughter
so
apart from the noise
I'm not really here
apart from the noise
there is nothing--
just an aching, fetid wound
that I call my life
sorry for
all of the miserable postcards
sorry for
forcing so many tears
if I knew I'd end up this way
I never would have begun a life with you
what are dreams
to a sleep-deprived man?
what is a handout and a smile
to a haggard beggar?
what is a fix
to a junkie?
it's what you are to me.
Labels:
drowning,
hate mail,
love letters,
lyrics,
miserable postcards,
poem,
poetry,
song,
suicide notes
Sunday, September 9, 2012
wester (AFI)
I can feel you
waiting for me
when the sun
retreats to the hills and I
below the blanket of a burning sky
wrap myself within
embraced by dead leaves
as the rain leaves
trails of black down my face
and I
creep through the twilight to that hidden place
beyond the lonely
I'll meet you
tonight in the whispers when no one's around
nothing can stop us now
tonight in the whispers where we won't be found
nothing can stop us now
well, I can feel you
dreaming of me
and the time when our steps are retraced
and I
creep through the twilight to that hidden place
beyond the lonely
I'll meet you
tonight in the whispers when no one's around
nothing can stop us now
tonight in the whispers where we won't be found
nothing can stop us now
tonight in the whispers when no one's around
nothing can stop us now
tonight in the whispers where we won't be found
nothing can stop us . . . .
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