deja dead.

until then, ill protest the idea of existance, again.

erase all ive said.
erase all ive thought.
could it all just be put more simply
and more honestly, all of this turmoil
surrounds the simple fact, now what
could we do about?
nothing?
then lost shall i continue to be
waiting again.
i miss you, simply said
and if in the sky you'll find me
thats enough comfort to hold in this young lad.

+

6 mois, 12 mois, la vie est morte, L'absurde.

love is suicide.

love is suicide.

+

I wanted to touch you
with something deep
I wanted to love you
with something real
-and
all I gave you
wasn't enough
-and all I have
isn't enough
to awake from this nightmare

I wanted to show you
all that there should of been
every opportunity we could of had

instead we end up dead
seperated and wasted
wondering how and why
you destroyed the future
or stole part of mine
for your own good

all i could give
is all i ever had
and i did,
never again
will you give me back
what of mine you have
what you owe to me
all i did
was tell you to hold on
while life
our life
you didn't give it a fair chance.

cher marcine

cher marcine,

she writes to me in the night
in the midst of his arm touching his head
gently, and quietly
whispering these thoughts to me

she describes a crime so complex
a heart beating without rest
as if it was meant to be

his caress was once so sensitive
his heart was once to tenderly
placed between the arms of wisdom
crossing the bridge to safety

her words speak of satisfaction
as he lies to me
and lyes with another

whispering to me
rest you do not find on the sea
sleep, i will awake from you
alone and trembling.

his hopes lay underneath his love
now lost and emptied
forgotten and abandoned at sea

in the night she whispers to me
with a knife at my neck
I tell you boy, this is reality
a future?
unlikely.

she writes to me in the sky tonight
warning me of what i already know
of whom has replaced me
his breath is peaceful and steady


his energy drained
his heart taken
frequently by the fragile type

she whispers to me this night
warning of what he shall take from me
and replace with another
over and over
leaving behind the scars of his psychosis


leaving me
unhealed
untouchable
incapable
and
incomplete

she writes to me in the night
to inform me of this void
that from the heavens she sees
as he feeds on another
while i wait for the return
of what belongs to me.

je m'en fluo(tiste)

CONTRE VOTRE FLUO.
Moi je fous de la resistance contre cette tendance trop fluo.
est-ce que vous allez ceceder?