Left my memories
On an empty bank today
Singing an old song
And my heart bleeds on
Turned to a broken arrow
Shot through the dark
Loosely wrapped with a
Half written love letter
Leather upon my wrists
Empty and holding it tight
Got a wing on my mind
Baby, I’m doing just fine.
Don’t purchase my love;
I want you to bleed.
I want you to lay down
And sacrifice everything,
A pure devotion
Of unrelenting desire.
A life long pursuit
Of fear and anger
And joy and jubilee
And blood.
I want you to bleed.
And for me to feed
The ever increasing need
Of hemoglobin
With my raw and carnal instinct,
So omnipresent
That you shall become me.
And I will be your lifeline.
Lines have been written down the back of my neck
Ancient scrolls, unintelligible
In a language spoken when men and women
Lived together in deep respect and love
My throat has begun to burn
The ink has started to bleed
Where once was smooth innocence
Crawling with anticipation of the turning times
Return to a fantasia built upon sorcery
Filled with myth so blood-soaked and deep
Memories flood the virgin landscape
And the Oracle speaks once again
Desire cuts the edges of time
Bloating the circles that filter my clique
Enter the ninja, defined and cunning
Who packages the goodies
Into my lunchbox
While want, want, want fills me
I sit back and bleed the freshly killed carcass
Blood oozing onto the cement floor
Draining all that has lived inside
Filling madness into the void
Just think, I tarry a while
Holding the chopsticks at the dinner table
Once, there was a time when
All choices from within
Were unconscious, hopelessly trivial
Some days I can memorize the stars that look upon me
[Laying naked in the grass; I let it bleed]
Souls reach out from bloated heights
[I cry alone and let the moonlight carry my sin]
Deeper and deeper into the melted horizon
Slowly crawling its weary arc
Further and further into tomorrows dreams
[It is now I rise awake]
Galloping faster into the future
To return another day, in different form
A different place we both shall align from
A hurt from such a rift causes my soul to bleed; bandages cannot repress
Social anxiety, misgivings, and confusion; poor mans shoes
Die with your holy preacher man pointing fingers at the victimized
We are all to blame, says she, but you shall suffer
Rote killed the carpenter, rote riddled the masses
Smite kept the homeless alive fighting keystones and matchbooks
Desire put your holiday panicking over dark and fuming holes
But your money bought you pain that your doctor couldn’t heal
This has shaped your soul into puppets you cannot identify
Sleepless in your figure, shapeless while you work
Amongst your goblets and amulets
Hurt by your call to society you’ve never represented