sneaky, bitchy, gravy.

if integrity was a bank, you wouldn't be broke
you'd be cracked, demolished, fucking up in smoke
you'd be sippin' on leaves with a little pinky out
pretending to be classy with so much jizz in your mouth
shizz in your mouth, inked lies in your mouth
"why you lookin so trash?" everybody shout
bleeding your stank-ass shit all about
words from the birds, skyfall with gravity
how could a broke bitch like you tackle me?
nothing you say ever computes
do me a favour: get the remote, press mute
you probably believe every single word you say
you got a fugly-ass soul, personally honed everyday
your hair is so big, it's full of secrets
sad-ass fuck - wish you could beat this
eat this, elite this, street this, be this
i totally love your skirt, tell me where you got it
on second thought - fucking choke on a cockpit
i mean, olive pit... i mean, stop it... i mean, cock, bitch
i got that steady flow, you a wide-set vagina
or better yet, let's keep it gender-neutral because you so blah
got something to say then just spit it in my face
but don't spray it because i'm the real mace
pepper me up, salt-shake me all around
i'll show you the most seasoned thing to go down
be real, get real for once in your fucking life
don't just say some programmed shit you think is right

you might be the sneak but i'm already at the peak
add six more shots cuz your shit is weak
tip-toe everywhere like a muh fucking ballerina
cinch that tutu in cuz i can still see ya

http://instagram.com/p/kkmTxdnRvU/

Brown Eyes

They smolder at me

Blazing

Beautiful

Brown

With arches of hair above

Perfectly curled like sand dunes on a beach

Curving down to meet the frothy sea

And lashes so long, they curl upward as if searching for sunlight

Each lip perfect in and of itself,

One arcing upward, with a small dent in the middle, as the line in the small of your back

And the other sitting silently: thick, dewy and soft

I love when you kiss me and keep those brown beacons open

Looking into me, searching, prowling, grabbing, owning

They become smaller as our lips conform

Smaller but still larger

And every emotion seems to pass

Small hands, like mine

Soft, like mine

I want nothing more than to be touched by them

Please:

Run your fingertips along my inner thigh

Press down on my back

Grab my hair and pull

Squeeze my neck in passion as we kiss

Gnarl your palms around my ass and put your fingers in

Hold me from inside in your small hands

And hair on your chin that pricks, the way a pear’s grains gently graze the tongue

It covers some of your neck, growing over the rocky Adam’s apple like blades of grass growing on a lonely moor

I love kissing the apple; pointy, hard, large

It jumps when you swallow

Moving upward and sinking in simultaneously

Then reappearing as if nothing happened

The browns roll away into the back of your head

Leaving behind white – only white

Seen through a small slit between eye and eyelid;

They flutter as you let out a heavy breath

And your body shudders for a moment beneath mine

I kiss the blades on your neck

More shuddering

Then they reappear;

Staring into me from below

Beckoning me in, lulling, cooing, seducing

And I follow without hesitation

There is no need to defy those brown eyes

Born

Born of hate
Bred in rage
Never believing in a state of grace
Fed with guts
Used for glory
Just useless words to a heartbreaking story
Honed with lies
Sharpened by cruelty
Always made to feel stupid and guilty

But you are a man
A man with a beating heart
And you have hands
Hands in which, I beg you, please accept my heart
And an open will with a life less than pure
But together, facing rapture, we have found something worth living for

Guilty, oh!
For everyone's responsibilities
Guilty, oh!
Of your own fluidity
Guilty, oh!
For being hot as City summer heat
Guilty, oh!
Shall I read you Socrates?

We're in bed. We're naked. You're wearing glasses and all I want to do is fuck you.

Guilty, you are not
Born of hate, bred in rage
How could you ever attain a state of grace?
Fed with guts, being used for glory
Feed your heart to me, for I adore thee
Honed with lies, fucked by cruelty
But you were never proven guilty

No, you were never proven guilty
No, you are still worthy
No, you are a master
A fucking disaster
An asshole drinker
A mister maybe never
A fucker emotionless
I'm not fucking impressed
But you were never guilty and that is why I adore thee.

Give me back to me

Floating through the world -
Child, ward, now adult and scarred.
Your world has never been enchanted with mine
Your thoughts, beyond speculation or speckled sight

We exist independently and freely
Autonomous deities with four hands each:
one to scratch, one to slap, one to maim and one to cover our eyes;
Because looking at the truth is harder than anyone can sing, write or postulate

But we still share the world because we share each other's worlds
Blood, shed and borne in a sphere of loathing, love and constant responsibility
I don't own you but there's still a part of you inside
And beyond leaving you behind, I have engulfed yourself in mine

Why? You are a cretin, a coward
The mercy you have shown my love is pathetic
Grown, manful, sacred fear boils in your blood, to the weakness of your bones
You cannot help me any more than you ever have because you lack the gall

You fear the road not traversed, you fear fighting for righteousness and beauty
For love, for a bountiful break of bread, for the sake of my love, my bread and my beauty
You fear yourself within me, you fear me within yourself but cannot find the words or actions
To show and express the prickly emotions that make the back of your neck tingle or your eyes well with liquid

And thus, you have failed - because where you have gone wrong, you have left dark pieces for me to pull together
(A magician's son would be no better equipped against your twisted forage)
Dark pieces that have become me, that I will not escape forever all because you, in your fumbling existence, cannot understand what it is to fully love

So you will steal more of me, you will plunder my vibrations and you will exhaust my trust
You will exclude my light from your life, you will interrupt every particle I send your way
You will entrench me before I can even attempt to regenerate, you will scrape at my insides like a tiger who takes its claws to the bark of a tree
You will devour my heart, you will corrupt my mind, you will lie and cheat me because you think you can, you will eat my feast before my very eyes, you will ask of me and I will give but you will never return any of it

You are a taker, and you have taken all of me.

Tell me

Tell me how I walk
And tell me how I talk
And tell me how I kiss
Tell every detailed thing

Tell me why I smile
Tell me what a little child
I become around you
Tell me, is it also true for you?

Tell me whispers in bed at night
About life and love and fright
Tell me secrets of yourself
While I pull you to myself
Tell me how the light hits my eyes
When the sun peeks through the blinds
And our feet are tangled into one
Both our hearts, undone

December

I can't forget but won't remember by December.
I tell myself this to feel better, I won't be bitter.
I read, I see, I feel, I sing and try to let it all in.
Just in the hope to let it all go, I let my emotions flow.
I pretend it was a dream sometimes and wish it were real oftentimes.
I write constantly about this, and slowly everything becomes amiss.
Did it really happen, I wonder while I try to not be fonder
Of it, of this, of the not knowing which limits the growing -
The growth of me, the growth of beauty.
The expectation of things to come; Russian Roulette's gun.
If I pull the trigger will I drift assunder?
Or will I return resplendent? Back to independence?
I can't forget but won't remember by December.
Though it will be alright if I do - because it's you.

But my heart, it won't.

Now I feel it, now you don't.
Like a grave of forgetfulness,
Leave it behind, I won't:

Can I be transparent,
Or is it all through haze?
My love is apparent,
My heart beats your phrase.

Electric transfer, darkest nights,
Awake, in sleep; I am always haunted,
Farthest reaches of my weak plight,
Wash away your stain, may this be granted.

A burnt root, blackest ash and coal,
With uprooted insides, scattered afar;
Thus, my heavy, sacrilege soul
Is interred in the numbest war.

This isn't pain, that wouldn't be justice,
It wrings and pulls and kicks and wounds.
Your face and body and voice insists
On seeing me through 'til all hope is pruned.

Bare, leafless, adjacent to fact,
At war with what?
It is you I lack.

Now I need you, now you don't.
My mind will forget you
But my heart, it won't.

The Want.

How does it keep growing?
This feeling inside myself?
Like a ghostly haunting, thrashing -
A monster that won't be shelved.
Beating around, thumping my core,
Inching slowly toward my very innards,
How can I douse it when my mind screams for more?
A vine that keeps growing inward.
It's there before I sleep and in the moment I awake,
Fiery, icy, gravitationally enhancing,
These are unknown and gargantuan stakes,
And nothing will stop its advancing.
It hurts because the feelings are wry,
Your face is beautiful, far but dear,
Love won't escape me, although the heart feels dry,
I'm falling and falling, dissonance is near.
I can't stop the dreams; the murmurs,
I can't stop the wanting and wishing,
I can't stop the thoughts, a roaring ferver,
I can't stop the hoping, praying.

I will get over you.

It's happening again,
And I am your stead.
This isn't love, it's a stain
That's spreading through my head.

The feelings persist, your smile persists,
And my emotions rear their ugly head,
My heart loses connection (if a romanticised heart exists),
And once again, I am your stead.

Not only miles apart,
But we are worlds apart.
Do I want you?
What is missing?

You are not mine, just like the Reader said.
You will never be mine, all "love" is dead.
You are not mine, so go ahead;
I will get over you.