Knife

I don’t believe a single vowel or consonant you say

But that doesn’t stop them from slithering into my ears

And hanging somewhere around my temporal lobe.

Oh, it’s so funny how words are perceived so different

When they are in lyrics.

Would you mind sliding a clean switchblade in between my asymetrical shoulder blades,

One side heavier than the other due to unbalanced conversation between two people.

You really should learn how to listen.

I seem to have misplaced the last one that landed clean,

Like a bow and arrow.

Bull’s eye.

So, please, entertain me with your sachets and clean cut grammar.

I will sit here and dig dirt out from underneath my fingernails

That left my name on the ragged skin of your spine.

I’ll accept that knife into my back

And grin as it peeks through my central nervous system

Sending tingles down my spine

I chuckled when you shut the door in my face.

Searchin' for a brain wave

I CAN'T WRITE ANYTHING GOOD.

More to [possibly] come later. I just need to listen to Amanda Palmer's CD a few hundred more times and then maybe I'll find some real inspiration. I guess my life is a little dry of brutal honesty at the moment? I blame applications.

Blood line.

Runs in the family; October, 2008

Oh no, have mercy, I can’t help where I come from
The decade series and century facade
We all have the feathered tongue and sick satisfaction
But business is business, and business runs in my family.
We tend to bite easy, thick in the blood.
I’m telling you this because I just want you to know me
But don’t get too close or you might infect me
Just saying ‘sickness’ alone is far too much.
I’m quick to react, I’m quick to retaliate
I’m mad in the head, I’m scarred on the wrists.
All day I wonder who can I blame
The business of it all seems to run in the family.
But business is business, and business runs in my family.