Thursday, July 14, 2011
Down the Bottle, Sleep with the Empty
The encouraging urge of your defeat winding me up and casting diamonds on my skin. This isn't a vampire story because we don't want blood but if the opportunity rose I couldn't beg you differently for the likeness of rage has empowered my motivation to breath and were playing tug-o-war with our surroundings, we've got first class treatment to our idiocy. Maniac attention blubbering from pores and skin feeling toxic but exhilarating. I'm drunk! I'm drunk! So drunk off images of you, I can't help but down the bottle and sleep with the empty and trying to tongue out that drop, that little pinprick of yourself your giving up to be. An occasionally I am not left sad by the fact of you for my tongue will get a swift taste sending my atoms into a frenzy all harmonizing together singing give me more, give me more, give me what you've got baby, give me more. Talking myself into a drunken stupor, using the bottle to hold the embers. Dancing in the shadows of things we want, going through the garbage for things I think you've gotten rid of, but foolish me can't believe your still holding on with a grip like mine, were fighting for the same things at different times, with different company, and in a world where you and I could rule.. the company is important now, the factors are all X-ing me out.