oh some more writing.

when the record begins to play
spitting out a tune i know as my lullaby,
the moon spins into view, dancing
its way over my room.
little doll eyes heavy with sleep
her thoughts and dreams begin to seep
into the room, spilling magic like
buckets of paint onto the walls
vibrant colors coming to life
shooting stars that never vanish out of sight
a musicbox that sings songs of love
brilliance, faith and turtle doves,
and the hope is alive, burning
like fire in this space
with a heart so wide open she
risks drowning in love but
wants no other options
she chooses to pick her way through
the corruption, with fireflies to light
the way and your hand to guide her.

- - - - - - -

your love embraces me more hotly than flames,
and it seems my eyes are burned white by the brilliance of your smile.
god, what i would do to pick the stars from the sky and hand them to you,
although they could never be as magical as your soul,
in fact, your eyes should trade places with the stars in the sky
so that this barren world can witness true magic.

- - - - - - -

youre so fucking stupid, and youre blind to it.
open your eyes before i leave you behind.
in the near future i hope to accomplish this:
breaking your neck and slitting your wrists.

- - - - - - -

i'm being weighed down by shackles,
linked together and fused with your unhappiness,
i'm trapped, locked in this tower
for what seems an eternity,
until one day my prince will come
and set me free.

- - - - - - -

take another hit, and while your slippin' slit your wrists. all you know how to do is spit shit, get caught up in the drama and then get lynched. climbing higher and higher up that grapevine bullshit. your mind knows the truth but your mouth fabricates it.