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&this is where everything gets complicated
-really, everything is when you're living a lie, though
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12th-Jul-2008 09:02 am - soundtrack of my summer
 i. my black dahlia
i say- you're not worth the fight.
you laugh- at the lessons and the truth you've
taught me. no, you say (to the student,
as the master) i'm not. cheshire boy-
your dreams infected her when your fire
work dust fell and burnt (them) into her skin.
red, blue, and green; her skin scarred. screamed.

ii. even snakes have hearts
i will write you proclamations
in sharpie. and i will
write them across your
garage/on your window/
where everyone
will see, and even
your mother will know.

ii. liar (it takes two)
you freeze, segue,
bring it back to me.
full of yourself, this lack of
originality is finally getting to
, you say, you sighed.
i realized i hated your
truth spilling tongue.
(throwing up nazistars into
the toilet, drunk- and you're
still beautiful.)

iii. straight to video
it was the beat that always attracted me to you.
you lived your life fast paced in our slowed
down world (when there was a party,
you were there. and when it was important,
you were throwing it). i had laughed when
you pulled out your eyelashes for wishes.
you cheated, but back then it was endearing.
(until it was for real. until it was my
hairs you were pulling for your voodoo

iv. cut you down
he laughs, smiles, sneers.
confess. confess.
you were the only one who
ever had problems with
telling the truth. he was
brutally honest (to a point).
and sometimes you'd throw
his own hopes and dreams and
fears back in his face til
he'd stall, stutter. but it was only
ever temporary and he always came
back doubletime for
what was due to him
(he scrawled words, threats,
and promises across your
wrist/pulse/legs and even
through denim- it burned.)

v. pepper
don't tell me
what i don't want to hear.
(boyyy you're still biting your lip
and i haven't forgotten what that means)

vi. thrash unreal
(and on the couch,
there's a guy with a hand with a ring
touch touch touching,
leannning breattthhhing
accentuating every word
yeah, babe.
no, babe.
you growllllll
and joey points, tells the man,
see her? she's remix.
(the remix? his remix?)
see ya, babe.)

you're still a jealous narcissistic asshole
too cute for your own damn good
& way too powerful for mine.

vii. temper temper
there's always
a kid unsure of
how to hold
his tongue.
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