the hills of glasscove

I still whisper
inside your flesh
your memories are still so
fresh

a bit of blood
I love your mistakes
I love how I break
I hate everything to take
for granted

another cigarette through the day
another question
another statement to say

glaring lights
like another porno I watch
but pretend to never see
it isn't lust
its just something
that's a must
inside a suicidal mind
trying to fight
but never deal
the knock out blow
its like your slide show
for everyone to know

the anger in your eyes
reassure me I made mistakes
I have before
and the more I fake
the more I make
so I find
myself on razor's edge
I had to make myself
look to see what I am
and the voices whisper "damn"
then jumbled profanity's
for which I am ashamed

another moonlit date
another vision of my twisted fate
its not products
that you sold
with your lies
I just picked up something
off of the guy who chased me down
and you've seen the last time
or maybe the first
its another word
for another world afar

words of wisdom
they spew from your mind
rather its rain droplets
or the gas you sprinkle
then light the fire

11:18pm on a normal night
and its just another scene
in a swaying life
10 years removed from what I was
and what I could be
what I am
from the man in the mirror
to the fictional clowns
dancing though the ally's
of my personal space