Infected Tattoo

Okay already... I'm here to tell you I'm having yet another sh*tty day.
I swear, sometimes my sh*tty days run into each other giving me a sh*tty weeks.
I think I'm in the middle of a sh*tty month... that's sh*tty!

My goddamn arm is totally f*cked up.
I want to cut it off at the elbow.
I don't know what the f*cking problem is! I mean, I'm a hygienic, clean girl.
I smell good ya know... clean... squeaky!
Strawberry glycerin scented soap everyday, all over me everywhere, come here...
Smell me. Taste me. Good, hey?
Okay, you can stop now 'cuz you're making me feel uncomfortable.
I hardly know you.

Anyway, the point I'm making is I'm a well-bathed, clean little girl, so then...
What the f*ck is up with my arm?
It absolutely has devastated me.
It grosses me out.
It hurts like a bastard,
Opposed to when I was having it done, and it hurt like a bitch.

In the bible it says you're not supposed to mutilate or decorate your body,
'cuz God will get really cheezed at you,
But that guy Jesus died for our sins, right?
So I figure when I get to heaven,
Right before I have a drink with Bob Karsnarik and Andrew Wood,
I'll get an appointment with God and explain to him,
"I could wear long sleeve shirts and no one would see them!"
I hope he goes for it.
I bet Krishna and those dudes would let me hang out at their pad if God was too bummed at me.
Or I could just wait at the gates for my mom,
'cuz she'll outlive me, and then she could go talk to him about me,
Kinda like she did when I got suspended in grade
10 for smoking in the boys' washroom and she had to schmooze the principal.

Uhhhhhhhhhhhhh, yet another sh*tty day.
Sometimes I swear my sh*tty days run into each other,
Giving me sh*tty weeks.
I think I'm in the middle of a sh*tty month... that's... sh*tty!

I can't let you go
Don't let the dark
Be the only place you see me
I'll try to find you something new
That pulls me back to your arms

Little towns are the way we're living
Little white crosses on dangerous curves
Everyone's just dying to get out
They got skills but forgot the nerve

Turns me on when you turn me down
Everything inside me turned around
You've been tried and you've been true
And I know that pulled me through

I don't mind you don't know where you're going
I want to go with you
All the things you thought you handed down
They don't shine like they shine for you

I remember your phoenix shut it's eyes
And scratched it into my shoulder
Like everything I wish would die
Repeats itself over and over

Have I tried?
Am I true?
Did the things I said I'd never do
All that faith and luck and trust
If it's not real it turns to rust
It turns me on when you say your mine
All the things I thought I'd never find
Your attention has it's price
But it's never bark no bite

I can't stand the way you tell it

Turns me on when you turn me down
Everything inside me turns around
Give me faith and love and trust
Or just crush me into dust
I'm not afraid to pay your price
Because you're never bark no bite

For the one who won't ever read this, my mechanic musician.

Waiting for Susan

Susan is a connotation
at less than arms length
She has the strength of an opinion
her promises are like the night overcast
like the stars she doesn't show
and when she does, she doesn't last

You can see her goodness
like her breath on a window pane
and then she turns her head
and it is gone again

And while I'm left waiting
she'll wax and she'll wane
and maybe she'll come here again
and Susan was at the other end of the line
and she received me just in time
and I lean to her like a preference of mine
like a reference to friendship
she defined my time

Now I'm waiting for susan
I don't know where I am in line
I'm waiting for susan
I wonder where I am in line

Ode to a Cocktail Napkin

So small, so thin and delicate. You hold the power in you, though. Scribbles of lipstick and scratches of near empty pens hold a world of wonders in the numbers written there.

You, the cocktail napkin, have brought lovers together and enemies too. Plans for the latest gadget to sweep the nation, lyrics to the next hit song, and the simplest of things: doodles.

You, the cocktail napkin, have been witness to lives ending, lives beginning, and the establishment of peace. You, the cocktail napkin, have been discarded without care, stained with the blood from a bar room brawl, and gently cleaned the spots from the dress of a movie star.

You, the cocktail napkin, ever present when we need you, and the devine messanger of that phone number we cannot lose. You, the cocktail napkin, have broken hearts and destroyed confidences with your fake phone numbers written in lipstick and your cruel insults written indelibly on your paper and on the victim's soul.

So here's to you, cocktail napkin, here's to you. Cheers! Oh damn, I spilled...hey, could I borrow that napkin for a minute?

God forgive me

I have lost you, and yet i dont want to lose you

I but the wall there

And i want to tear it down

I showed anger, when i should have shown love

Prey please forgive me

I miss you, as you are the world to me

Even with all my rage and sorrow, deep down

I love you and i need you

Please i prey forgive me

I need you and i dont want to lose you

I know you have always been there for me

And for that i love you, and i will listen

Just please i beg, dont go away, i dont want to lose you

My beloved forever, my soft hand that wipes away my tears

That shoulder i have cried upon, i beg i plead to all above

and across this world and the next, i need you, please stay

Please i pray, forgive me

I laid in bed and tried not to cry.
There were no bruises on my body.
No, you found a more effective place
To wound me.
My spirit, you tried to break it
Time and again with your angry words.
With hate filled attitudes and accusations.
With your iron control and manipulation.
That a friend would try to slaughter my spirit
In the guise of "love", it is a crime.

So I laid awake and tried to find the woman
Inside me that you had attempted to murder.
I thought of the times your words had
Punched me in the gut like a fist.
You promised you'd stop.
What a sham your promises were.
Is nothing sacred to you? Not even your word?

Now you beg for my forgiveness,
Now you beg for my friendship again.
Now you try to show me love and respect
But it?s just too late to resurrect
What died a long time ago from your abuse.
I know I?m alive now, and I don?t care
If you love me or not, I love me.

I did not like the person I had become
When I was around you.
I did not like the things I would think and say
In response to your razor words.
I became a stranger to myself
And it isn't healthy.

I tried to teach you what a true friend was
But you bit the hand that fed you.
I tried to be the friend you said you needed
But you slit your throat with your own tongue.
I'm done.

I have not the time, nor the feelings left to deal with your guilt trips.
I have problems of my own to deal with, pain of my own.
Please leave me be.

Post not in my folders, PM me not, for they are just deleted without reading.
I gave you chances, I cared before. I cannot risk it again.

Your threats of suicide scared me before, scared me into action.
I have become numb, and no, I do not wish any soul to destroy the gift of life they have been given, despite how THEY see it.
You were not faced with the possibility of death, as I had been.
I, too, had decided to end it all, but when faced with life being taken from me, instead of given up on, I realized how STUPID it is.

You have threatened me with jumping from that cliff time and time again.
Well, this time I don't have the energy to come running.
If you want to be an idiot, and damn yourself according to YOUR OWN religion, so be it. Nothing I could do or say to stop you if you truly wanted to do it.

So please, save the melodrama for your own folder, and stay out of mine.