Weak Code

Pissed
in a royal way,
wanting to go and tear your insides out into the air
so I can kiss the bleeding,
lap up the pain.

Like you,
I can love pain in others--
pull it out so easily,
oh!  I laugh
with the ease,
with the suave way I
rock my hips
as I slip and crack your bones--
so sorry.

Giggling
in response to your cries,
it's my knowledge--
I ripple since you can't get help,
no, you're stuck in a crumble--
come kneel in front of me,
and give me what I need.

Bothersome--
I laugh with your agony--
my fires pour out in a jovial way,
you can't ever tell what I mean.

Not there,
or so it seems,
since I act so free--
make my words shoot unguided,
force my eyes to shield for me.

Whispers . . .

Trailing away now,
why do you have to run me this way?
I'm just some program,
just wrote myself to be for you,
tears will show the faults,
will wreck the output of my emotions.

And I
can't move,
just tip over in a losing
sense
of rhythm.

Quiet torture . . .
the kind we love.

You can't hear me when I break,
you're eons gone--you were here
just yesterday.

Similarities . . .
we act, we talk, we think
the same,
but I guess I'm the actor,
you're the director,
and I guess I'm the fool,
you're the wise man.
Back home!
Songs of Me
...
Hosted by www.Geocities.ws