word4word

Tell me the tools you used so I may reverse myself piece by piece everything is art not creation I'm a fine oil painting in my self destruction elemental melting into a colorful puddle of ruins a creation rejecting the creator and rising up to hold it's own brush and pallat it wasen't ment to be this way abstract and too much black transforming from my worst enemy to my own salvation from the world you created around me

The television goes static, as it often does in times of bad weather. I stare at it, not blinking, not moving, calmly waiting for the entertainment to return. I wait, sometimes longer than other times. I know it is not gone forever, because I invested myself into this entertainment. We bought the television, the cable, we pay the bills. It belongs to us. The picture is owed to us. I invested myself, and was owed something in return, which I did not receive in full. I keep staring out in space, waiting for the universe to hand back what was taken away. All the time, effort, struggling, all just to get static in the end, with no promis

The tide is rolling in on the southern beach were I sit and an old agima is preparing my urchin. Yellow meat slides out onto the plate and i eat them with a toothpick. You would hate the taste, I already know. But, you would love the waves that I swam in, and you would have taken pictures with me beside the pirate statue with the silver beard. The bus is coming and slowing down to pick me up. I get on and I'm off again to a new paradise. I would have let you take the window seat and told you all about asia and it's weird quirks. And maybe you would have liked it. And we would have seen mountains together and talked about base jumpi

it's blue stained fingers and going through each picture the smell of you on my skin everyday after scrubbing my own scent away like you are in my blood it's lounging in your shirt and closing my eyes to forget the hurt when you had to go away it's candy bracelets and guitar a ride in my car round and round in circles 'till we get it right it's phone calls in bathroom stalls and for once a feeling of not being able to contain myself it's losing control of something you stole and never wanting it back it's dancing lights on the swing that night it's you, again, promising everything will turn out alright in the end reclin

at least you will leave me with my goody-bag of memories, stories and pictures i will never say shoulda woulda coulda because im all dry inside little bag of my remaining respect little last candy kisses little games that used to make us laugh is it growing dark already? is it time to go home? i'll leave after i help you clean the mess we made trash scattered but the balloons still float on by i blew secrets in them, so watch them die You show me to the door and hand me my coat it's cold outside without you and the world is so harsh most of the time i should have stolen a candle before we blew them all out

you are fire you are heat passion dancing spreading waving teasing red yellow blue orange plastering pictures to my wall turning nonsence into ashes you are out of control a piece of sun on earth running suffocating loving tormenting hot energy daring and prowling for oxygen melting and cementing reaching and alluring to the extreame to the extreame you invade my dreams you are smooth whipples of crackling soft flames

I had never seen a smile so genuine, so gentle and warm- and your eyes seemed to penetrate through me when our glances met. Your whole face changed into someone so strong, yet so humble and you would always bashfully look down, still smiling. You couldn't ever look me in the eyes: Butterflies. Day by day I learned to love you, so easy, so intense. But your eyes told lies I learned. You took hold of me then broke me, for your eyes weren't only mine. They went straight for my heart, when you said...when you said... and it shattered like glass. Your words pierced like swords through that smile, still on your face. You wanted

"What Eve did to Adam" I bet Eve said to Adam, baby I'm going to mess this up. I have the curse of the sinning bride. Now I lay awake and wonder what if I never ate, would you still be with me? Your four walls and a sink cannot cage me inside. Let's run away and hide, I have a little change. More change than one can handle. So you smile anyways and tap your feet to the beat and I wonder if you have since forgiven my past transgressions. I need more than what you offer, You need me to be happy with what I have. So I'm sorry for this apple I always eat, And this snake that keeps biting my feet, I can't shake it lose, it's too

Light a match And throw it out Watch it burn Hear them shout No greater love Than what we want It's all about the fire It's all about the hunt I hear your voice in the whisper of the flames in the billowing smoke, the snapping of window panes. I see your smile In the fire above Staring in amazement I think I'm in love.

I hired a marching band to play, and stepped forward to lead the way to the grounds where we laid her there, a breeze of tension in the air. But angry people looked at me and told me who I used to be. So I left them there as they cried, with the one who long since died. Did you think I would miss you, run into your arms and kiss you? I dropped her and she shattered. I erased them and they vanished. Poor souls, never saw it coming. Never saw me leaving, never saw me running. At the edges of the Earth, I found her dead, nothing of greater importance was said. I came back changed, but everyone stayed the same. The hazy line, o