Ok back on track... oh i dread this daily posting of my own terrible stories. It seriously is painful to relive them especially that of my lola, Lolita.
so here goes... i think i just cant get over her, i guess that it is her, just her that somehow attracts me to her. which kinda drives me slightly insane. So here goes
Plummeting into desire
and we dance the samba in the corridor
one ahead of the other
amnesia.
desire and passion
suffocate me, force me to say what i refuse
a torture
gas chamber, it is her presence which drowns me.
tall chambers
arbeit macht frei
the lie
i am confined to
chains bind my feet, unwilling to walk over.
regaining my muse
singing her song in my ear
precious music
yet, sinning against myself
it pains my heart
bloods red words, strands of self
poured out.
we cannot be mixed
only blended together
crushed and destroyed
a mess, of ships planes and men
lying on the harbor, dead dead.
playing hard to get
and I waltz along
dancing the foxtrot
trying to keep pace with the note less beat.
I captured the magic of her eyes
pearls.
I look at her,
not knowing, not hoping, loss of mind, soul and
left with disdain for myself.
refusal to speak
waiting for the other, begin the killing of Franz Ferdinand.
Revolution waiting to happen
and still i wait
have i missed the caravan ?
the gypsies call out to me
the guitar strings play round my ear
and my muse is drowned by noise.
No no more !
I break out
reaching the nirvana
the nothingness,
and grasp for
Hope, The curse of Pandora.
I travel in circles
cross country and fields of gold
you sit in my car
no words are mentioned
only actions.
Actions speak louder than words.
i cannot hear her through the glass
I see her but dare not reach out
not afraid, tempted by the serpent
the bossa beat
guitars and music kill my red heart
my sweeeeet
lover, come be mine. Tell me tell me!
let me not wait
No No patience is a virtue
to hell with it !
Love is irrational and mad
the red wine that i drink
heart burn.
kills the organs in my body
suicidal
maniacal, like a witchy brew
she and I, potion of madness, a killer.
Jack the Ripper
find her tonight.
don't kill her, bring her before me.
no more no more
cortigo ego sum
Liar, Descartes.
How do thoughts express emotion
only words and blood
blood, a river of forgetfulness
leave me there to live in
nothing but
Amore
Amore
Amore
there with
Moi Lolita, lost muse of the sun.
there you go... think what you will, but good luck dissecting it.
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