brad

Nothing

And it comes to take me away,
this thing i love this beautiful day.
But inside i know,
the day will grow old and slow,
and it comes to rust again,
and i know this cycle will never end.
When all things angelic waste and die,
and nothing is beautiful to these eyes.
Here it comes to take me away,
this beautiful drug in its beautiful way.
And again nothing can touch me,
yet this also means nothing can be,
so nothing is real,
and there is nothing to feel.
Pulled down by the weight of gravity,
the haunting mockery of reality,
to me this world is such an ugly thing,
and i have nothing but nightmares to bring.
And she comes to take me away,
this beautiful girl in her beautiful way.
Opening her wrist she gives me her blood,
and i swallow her life in its flood,
so together we live and never can die,
as i slit the throat of a once-blue sky.
Nothing is real and no one is there,
in her loving arms i do not care,
and i become nothing.
-Bradley Lindsey

Not good enough

So what does she think of me?
not good enough im not good enough...
It comes it screams beyond my wildest dreams,
yet it never comes true.
Just more nightmares to burn me up,
more illusions to sift through and define,
more dreams to swallow with time.
It is all so ugly blackened and raped,
angels with bloodshot eyes more emotions to sedate.
I cant see through these dreams,
these illusions these nightmares.
In loving arms filled with AIDS
a virus a disease a knight to bear.
Himself without his armor naked and bleeding,
ashamed of what was under there...
A heart a body a mind withered with light,
or was the light nothing more than burning flame?
The day is gone it is tonight,
yet it all feels the same.
Time passes again i see things i wish were never real,
and the things which are illusions i want to feel.
Today becomes tomorrow tomorrow another today,
what now does she think of me?
Never good enough he's not good enough,
for me......
-Bradley Lindsey

Bloodstream

   Head hung low through the darkness i walk,
away from the place ive sold my soul; now infected.
   In mind a deed that should never be thought,
the sickness of me in his mouth i accepted...
   The air is stale & thick, choking inside,
soul twisted in agony what have i become?
   Covered in sweat again i have died,
when will all this be done?
   Lovers in an alley expressing their lust,
in my hand the drug i call home.
   The shadow inside whispering i must,
live this life alone...
   Perhaps not everyone is born with a hole,
inside that cuts and burns and rages until filled.
   Darkness ahead too thick all i know,
is that which lived within has died.
   A day, a week perhaps i deny,
replacing emotion with sedation i implore.
   Another day to forget why,
all i want is more...
                                -Bradley Lindsey