deepundergroundpoetry.com
Oblivion in a smouldering ashtray (featuring Crimson)
So this is what it feels like
being played a fool
kicked aside
stabbed all over disregard
et tu luna et tu
Some how seems like that spark
never existed in your head
that picture painted
was never enough
just offer him up on the sacrificial altar
feeling the urge to curl up into nothingness
fade away someplace in the back of a cave
away from prying judging eyes
you cut me with not even goodbye
a thousand cuts of betrayal
you said you would love me until you died
soulmated in the eternal
flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood
a piece of me withered when you pulled away
there are no more dreams left flittering on my horizons
only an emptiness where your soul in mine used to be
finding solace within old habits
a well meaning friend
starts with a can then before you know how and when
dozen bottles of bourbon lined up
like some dyslexic forgot how to play
ten pin
Those old habits refusal to pass
has you on a first name basis now
that slow waltz La self destruction
treats lined silver platters
spoonfuls of medicine
Morphine lullabies soaking in a warm tub
restless nod
Picasso paint this portrait how it used to be
so tired of this dance now
looking up at a shredded canvas
floating back down to hit the floor
I'm sinkin babe don't you see?
you left me on the floor drowning in your alibis
I got my finger on the trigger...suicide
a bottle of pills calls to me
oblivion in death...maybe I'll find you there again
being played a fool
kicked aside
stabbed all over disregard
et tu luna et tu
Some how seems like that spark
never existed in your head
that picture painted
was never enough
just offer him up on the sacrificial altar
feeling the urge to curl up into nothingness
fade away someplace in the back of a cave
away from prying judging eyes
you cut me with not even goodbye
a thousand cuts of betrayal
you said you would love me until you died
soulmated in the eternal
flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood
a piece of me withered when you pulled away
there are no more dreams left flittering on my horizons
only an emptiness where your soul in mine used to be
finding solace within old habits
a well meaning friend
starts with a can then before you know how and when
dozen bottles of bourbon lined up
like some dyslexic forgot how to play
ten pin
Those old habits refusal to pass
has you on a first name basis now
that slow waltz La self destruction
treats lined silver platters
spoonfuls of medicine
Morphine lullabies soaking in a warm tub
restless nod
Picasso paint this portrait how it used to be
so tired of this dance now
looking up at a shredded canvas
floating back down to hit the floor
I'm sinkin babe don't you see?
you left me on the floor drowning in your alibis
I got my finger on the trigger...suicide
a bottle of pills calls to me
oblivion in death...maybe I'll find you there again
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