Laughing burns the throat. The mixer’s become a joke. We all know just where this is going And I hope you feel at fault, Like the turning earth never Meant more than what you said.
I can’t love. I can barely even like.
You made it hurt. My lips won’t work any more; There’s only a fine line Between you and I, I crossed paths with a black heart. It’s an ache in the hollow, It grows with the things you swallow, It’s always been a game of demand and supply.
In those dark rooms we’d move close together and swallow chemicals, praying. Our eyes first met while we poisoned our bodies for fun, because we needed it. It became routine; we were together only because of the craving we both felt. We fed with the promise of feeding, hid and destroyed with the promise of darkness and feeling.
i don’t know where my words have all gone
closenessless: http://lakemichigan.bandcamp.com/album/personal-shit-2 here is my ep finally. i’ve put a lot into writing these songs and my friend matt did an awesome job recording mixing and mastering. it’d mean the world if people could listen and download (totally free) and maybe even reblog this or something, thankyou. You should go listen to/download this. It’s fucking good music.
Pick me up and drown me in absinthe. I’ve silently begged you to do so many Things you could never manage, Always with your eyes closed. I always was your blindfold In every scenario you would paint For me in words and sound And I liked the idea That I could steer you away From the dangers in your path. Turns out your empathy was Lax So I shut my own eyes tight And pray the evening brings me...
All I want is meaningless sex, is that so much to ask for?
I feel like it’s not working. I could stand silent facing a wall and he would still think I was the most marvellous conversationalist. An elbow to the ribs was seen as a comfort. I have been rude and direct and it doesn’t seem to work. He leaves much to be desired. I am claustrophobic anyway, I take pains to have my own space. He is forcing me to carve a hole with my own hands. I need...
This is a tear I can’t tape together. Structural change. Once left, twice ruined, And you let me trail Through the mud. Again. Which way’s upright? When you watched that little girl Put fresh footprints in the snow You said you envied that First beautiful desecration. The next day, you said The grey, trampled mess Broke your heart. You were my second day, The let-down reunion tour Of...