Wednesday, May 7, 2008

your best lover will be the worst at keeping a secret (once this tryst is over, my wrists are going to hell)

word on the street is
you're talking shit
but what about that rule
snitches and talkers
get stitches and walkers
bad hips, cut lips
and you can't even lift a finger
i had to phone 911 myself
and i left a note by the door
the toughest lessons
can leave you halfway dead
or halfway alive if you learn your place
and i'm just trying to forget
the way you look
the way your face looked like
it was dying to be anywhere else
so the story says anyway
well where are you going today?
my car is scheduled to crash with you
head on, heart off, lights on, conscience off
the same sympathetic fuck you i've screamed for years
she just walked out, totally forgetting her tears
they're laying on the ground behind the door
caution:wet floor, but i'm no janitor
so clean yourself up
8 pm sharp, and i'm feeling pretty dull
she only remembers to feel like this
but to keep her secret safe, she's telling me off
i'm outside of the old house think how new i felt
but now the only feeling i have is the one in my head
the aches and pains of trying to love you
heavy heart attack vs. my new conscience
so long sweetheart, you've gone sour

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