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Walking down the street with strange techno beats, and I’m still trying to figure out why this rhymes.Emotional spins and crazy dreams of whatever the hell life means.
Melting ice.
Melting hope.
My future is washed away.
We’re digging holes to china town in hopes of making the grade. We’ve written down ridiculous amounts of repetitive feelings, that only make sense to your one-time-on-this-earth mind.
Zeus is calling your name, pounding on your not-so-free-freedom.
Let’s pick up your un-filtered cigarettes and get to the real reason we’re got fucked up lungs. The world is harsh, so let’s make terrific use of what these blobs of color stand for.
They say you’re just a little too smart for;
Your own good. My own good. LIFES OWN GOOD.
Let’s set fire to your fake-ass attitude towards the way you’ve fucked over everyone else. You might be special, but welcome to reality, your neon dreams aren’t playing the right tunes. We’re all tired of the spiraling screams of sorrow. It’s too late for you. You’re an attention whore, and it’s your turn to walk the plank.
It’s time to notice I’M TOO PRETTY FOR THIS WORLD.
Justice has been served with a glass of scotch in your right hand. I write my owns books, even though my thoughts have novels. The clock is ticking, dear.
Tell me. Can you save yourself?
It’s the apocalypse. End of time.
Life ain’t so peachy anymore. Twists and turns, obsticles and illusions. It’s your time to F L Y.
The smoke is rising and it’s a little too hard to breathe. Love just might be too much to handle. Those sunflowers aren’t so sunny, and now it rains. Let’s kiss and make up. Maybe all your ranting and raving costs us something here. The tears you cry didn’t mean shit since everything you’ve said has flooded our intermost emotive outlooks.
Maybe you don’t make that much sense.
You’re kicking away the dirt at your shoes, and now the pain begins.
It’s time to chill-out and mellow down.
Give me a pen and let’s drain out our thoughts. Jefree Star is jealous of every word we have to say. Maybe even for the better.
Your phone is vibrating. Maybe we should let the voicemail pick it up.
You make up your own words so others may think you’re a one on the intelligence scale. I won’t feel the least bit sorry for you. I let so much shit slip past me, but I will not let you brainwash me. I cannot understand the mixed signals you’ve sent. It seems we all think a little more than expected.
We’ve got martini’s in our hand and you’re drinking away life.
WILLY WONKA’S MADE A NEW CANDY, AND YOUR NAME IS INSCRIBED IN THE WRAPPER.
haha
You think you’re witty and cute, but either way, I’ll be the conceited little bitch that I am to say
I’M STILL BETTER THAN YOU.
Your dramatic affect on the hopping mushrooms bring a smile to my surgeon-worthy silhouette. We may need some bug spray. It’s becoming more and more cloudy.
Thank God for Victor Frankenstein,
WE MAY HAVE CREATED A MONSTER.
Cancer. Cancer.Cancer.Cancer.
We’re dying slowly.
We’re all a day late, but you’re one year older. And maybe half the intelligence.
You roll your not-so-appealing eyes at everything I have to say. When, quite frankly, I could care less. As long as I get my not-so-meaningful point across.
Humanity is expensive.
I’m running out of money.
Flying seaguls are slowly chipping away at my shoulder.
We’re under the influence of blacklights. We’re safety pinning back your cold heart Let’s stitch up our emotions and realize LIFE ISN’T AS BAD AS IT SEEMS.
I don’t agree to this whole “shut up, she’s mad” deal.
Sorry that wasn’t as psycodelic as it should have been.
Your eye-rolling, sonic combusting
B O O M.
Butterfly regurgitations. You have one sick mind with the drugs laced up your nose. And now you have the balls to ask me if I need a smoke.
T I M E E X P L O D E S [ . ]
-Melanie
There’s something… I can’t pinpoint what it is exactly, but I can just feel it. It’s freezing in here – but I’m sweating. I can’t breathe && the world around my is spinning out of control. Or maybe it’s the after-cold & the fact that I’ve been falling asleep on the couch for the past few days.
Something is wrong with the sum of us. That I just can’t seem to erase. You’re laughing out loud at just the thought of being alive. And I was wondering, could I just be you tonight? You show your pain like it really hurts, and I can’t even start to feel mine. I’m just standing in place with my head hurt and I’m shaking, and I see you running off into the distance, your progress stretched out for miles. “Good bye my dear, I’ll see you in a thousand years” These are the words I’ve chosen, somehow the right thing to say just won’t come out. I wonder how you sleep at night; I wonder what you think of me. If I could go back, or actually if I could fallow, would you still be with me. I want you be unleashed, I want you to remember, I want you to forget, and I want you to believe in me. I really just want you by my side. I want to just lay it all down. Here and now, give all that is in me. I need a savior. I need a downfall. Here we go again, ashamed of being broken-in; we’ve gotten off track. I wanted you to linger just for a few more hundred years. Someone said “It’s going to end”, realizations such as this really make you think. I wonder what’s going to happen though, afterwards. If all of us will keep in touch after we fall apart. I can’t feel it now. What’s wrong with me? It bothers me, but it keeps rolling off like its water. It’s pooling somewhere. I’m going to drown. Tthis could be the difference between what you need and what you want. Every word you never said echoes down your empty hallway. Everything that was your world just fell down. Day breaking on the boulevard. Feel the sun warming up your second hand heart. I found this out on a late night drive; in my winter coat and my blood shot eyes. My faith hasn’t been so nice to me and the way I sin is hanging off of me. I’m sorry, I can’t take you anywhere. Soon you’ll be there. It’s been a long, long night and I’m way, way tired. We really don’t need any backup plans.
-Melanie
