(so it's going to be one of those weeks, is it?)



This is bound to be a mess…
Fragments of a bombshell romance

Detonate.


It’s that hot summer edge
When nightfall twists between my legs
Just like black hail on the horizon

I never asked much

But I’m at a loss for words.
Even my usual poison of sex dressed as innocence
Seems tattered and worn at the edges

So I beg for silence
One last goodnight kiss



And it’s just a metaphorical intake
Like blades of blue grass
Sharp glass

Staying over for heartbreak


And it’s not really fun without a little half-hearted violence
Secrets hidden in layers of filth
Used condoms strewn from wall to limb
Shadows on the wall
Broken

And so abused


Like killing control behind closed shutters
Fictional defense.
We’re being force fed defiance
And rancid meat on rusting spoons.

You never asked much.



And I won’t sugar coat it for you
The future’s still trapped behind your eyes
The mirror’s intact
Shattered with secrets
Torn and bruised

This is…



This is just some child’s nightmare
Some girl’s poison
Some man’s fantasy.


This is just some criminal’s disease.
Just some criminal….



It’s livid like serial defense
Cold blue
Reliving the program
This is bound to be a mess…

Forced through 6 years of repressed memories

This is scraping through my head like a reoccurring dream…


 
This is just some criminal’s disease.

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