Shut Up
We're the saints of degeneration
Spirits wallow in the pasts they left behind, bathe in self-destruction and even feed off of failed suicide attempts. Most smoke, as they had done when they still had a body to control, lungs to paint black and tissues to wither with all sorts of homemade poisons; even my mirrored image drowns his gas-made lungs in smoke, burns his lips to black ashes and then spits them out as the skin and flesh regenerates.
I find it useless, now, because it tickles as it drips down my damaged airways and not burns; it leaves me dissatisfied and disgusted, because I have no taste buds to taste the cig's bitter tip. It's stupid to smoke now, because I've smoked enough during 27 years of life that I've designated to self destruction.
What's left now? The only way to damage my brain is to watch what I can no longer breathe, taste and feel, her void eyes, his void eyes, her ever-present halo of smoke, his ever-present halo of smoke, the things that they do and that I cannot do anymore.
Em, babe, get the fuck away from that dude's backyard...
"Hey, Saugnapf", that annoying German dude mutters with a muffled laugh, exhaling a mouthful of searing hot smoke; yeah, he smokes as well.", I think you have problems with something up here"
And he points his middle finger at his blood-stained skull and then howls with childish delight as I raise my middle finger in response, a salutation I'm getting A's in using.
I think he said his name when we met( when he began cursing me in German for getting stuck with babysitting me), but I'm reluctant to fill my brain with anything but the memories I can't seem to forget.
Of course, he may have a point, this Nazi( this is not an insult, he is dressed in the German uniform that Nazis wore during World War II and has half of his head missing and the other half covered by dried up blood); I must be a masochist, because it hurts like hell, watching my previous life and not being able to continue living it...This is such an ill way of getting personal gratification...
Fuck, Emma! You stupid girl!
"Hey, is she going to be alright?", the Nazi mutters through his digits, pulling the cancer stick away from his lips to exhale.
No, fuck, she's not gonna be alright....
And your apathetic black irises piss the hell out of me, because they remind me of Uri's and of that stupid girl's, so you can go away now; I don't like having audience for my brain's destruction....
My digits dig into my temples, pull at my hair,fall atop my eyes to play the role of the eyelids, but those images uncoil repeatedly in my mind to add salt to my mental wounds.
"Wohoow~ that's some hardcore porn right there", that bastard whistles, clapping his red palms together as if he doesn't comprehend the images that pierce his brain like bullets.
Fuck you, bastard...
"Now, seriously,if you keep watching this you'll degenerate to the lower levels of this world,", he mutters while exhaling a mouthful of smoke."and you wouldn't want to fall down there, trust me"
Yeah, right....
Pain is my cocaine; if it takes a few days break, I go mad....
I find it useless, now, because it tickles as it drips down my damaged airways and not burns; it leaves me dissatisfied and disgusted, because I have no taste buds to taste the cig's bitter tip. It's stupid to smoke now, because I've smoked enough during 27 years of life that I've designated to self destruction.
What's left now? The only way to damage my brain is to watch what I can no longer breathe, taste and feel, her void eyes, his void eyes, her ever-present halo of smoke, his ever-present halo of smoke, the things that they do and that I cannot do anymore.
Em, babe, get the fuck away from that dude's backyard...
"Hey, Saugnapf", that annoying German dude mutters with a muffled laugh, exhaling a mouthful of searing hot smoke; yeah, he smokes as well.", I think you have problems with something up here"
And he points his middle finger at his blood-stained skull and then howls with childish delight as I raise my middle finger in response, a salutation I'm getting A's in using.
I think he said his name when we met( when he began cursing me in German for getting stuck with babysitting me), but I'm reluctant to fill my brain with anything but the memories I can't seem to forget.
Of course, he may have a point, this Nazi( this is not an insult, he is dressed in the German uniform that Nazis wore during World War II and has half of his head missing and the other half covered by dried up blood); I must be a masochist, because it hurts like hell, watching my previous life and not being able to continue living it...This is such an ill way of getting personal gratification...
Fuck, Emma! You stupid girl!
"Hey, is she going to be alright?", the Nazi mutters through his digits, pulling the cancer stick away from his lips to exhale.
No, fuck, she's not gonna be alright....
And your apathetic black irises piss the hell out of me, because they remind me of Uri's and of that stupid girl's, so you can go away now; I don't like having audience for my brain's destruction....
My digits dig into my temples, pull at my hair,fall atop my eyes to play the role of the eyelids, but those images uncoil repeatedly in my mind to add salt to my mental wounds.
"Wohoow~ that's some hardcore porn right there", that bastard whistles, clapping his red palms together as if he doesn't comprehend the images that pierce his brain like bullets.
Fuck you, bastard...
"Now, seriously,if you keep watching this you'll degenerate to the lower levels of this world,", he mutters while exhaling a mouthful of smoke."and you wouldn't want to fall down there, trust me"
Yeah, right....
Pain is my cocaine; if it takes a few days break, I go mad....