Infected Fleshbag
In addition: (I wrote something for you. "You show me yours, I'll show you mine...")
"Don't waste your touch, you won't feel anything --
Or were you sent to save me?
I've thought too much, you won't find anything...
Worthy of redeeming.
Yo he estado aqui muchas veces antes y regreso...
To...break down, and cease all feeling;
Burn now, what once was breathing --
Reach out, and you may take my heart away.
Imperfect cry, and scream in ecstasy --
So what befalls the flawless?
Look what I've built, it shines so beautifully,
Now watch as it destroys me.
Y regreso aqui otra vez y comienzo...
To...break down, and cease all feeling;
Burn now, what once was breathing --
Reach out, and you may take my heart away.
Break down, and cease all feeling;
Burn now, what once was breathing --
Reach out, and you may take my heart away.
I left it all behind, and never said goodbye.
I left it all behind, and never said goodbye.
I left it all behind, and never said goodbye...
I left it all to die.
I saw its birth, I watched it grow,
I felt it change me.
I took the life, I ate it slow...
Now it consumes me.
I...break down, and cease all feeling;
Burn now, what once was breathing --
Reach out, and you may take my heart away.
Break down, and cease all feeling;
Burn now, what once was breathing --
Reach out, and you may take my heart away...
...Heart away."
I'm sick. It's no fun. I take far too many pills -- one hospital-medicine at nine, another hospital-medicine half an hour later, aspirin throughout the day, another hospital-medicine at four, and a little pink pill to help me sleep. I feel doped up a lot. It sort of makes me giggle. I hate pain, you see. I hate internal pain. Inflicted on the skin? Not a problem. But I get a little psychotic-paranoid if something's wrong with me on the inside. I've had to see a doctor twice in the last three weeks. Woopty-doo.
Here's the thing: I worry every day that I won't be well again.
Here's the thing: I really miss you.
Here's the thing: I'm waiting for you to show up and sweep me away. Honestly.
I wish I had something interesting and silly and thought-provoking to say, but I don't. I wish I'd find something cathartic to study, but I can't. I wish I had a pair of arms that would hold me -- even if I raged and sobbed and laughed all at the same time. But I'm not sure I do.
Here's the thing: I am at my rope's end.
"Don't waste your touch, you won't feel anything --
Or were you sent to save me?
I've thought too much, you won't find anything...
Worthy of redeeming.
Yo he estado aqui muchas veces antes y regreso...
To...break down, and cease all feeling;
Burn now, what once was breathing --
Reach out, and you may take my heart away.
Imperfect cry, and scream in ecstasy --
So what befalls the flawless?
Look what I've built, it shines so beautifully,
Now watch as it destroys me.
Y regreso aqui otra vez y comienzo...
To...break down, and cease all feeling;
Burn now, what once was breathing --
Reach out, and you may take my heart away.
Break down, and cease all feeling;
Burn now, what once was breathing --
Reach out, and you may take my heart away.
I left it all behind, and never said goodbye.
I left it all behind, and never said goodbye.
I left it all behind, and never said goodbye...
I left it all to die.
I saw its birth, I watched it grow,
I felt it change me.
I took the life, I ate it slow...
Now it consumes me.
I...break down, and cease all feeling;
Burn now, what once was breathing --
Reach out, and you may take my heart away.
Break down, and cease all feeling;
Burn now, what once was breathing --
Reach out, and you may take my heart away...
...Heart away."
I'm sick. It's no fun. I take far too many pills -- one hospital-medicine at nine, another hospital-medicine half an hour later, aspirin throughout the day, another hospital-medicine at four, and a little pink pill to help me sleep. I feel doped up a lot. It sort of makes me giggle. I hate pain, you see. I hate internal pain. Inflicted on the skin? Not a problem. But I get a little psychotic-paranoid if something's wrong with me on the inside. I've had to see a doctor twice in the last three weeks. Woopty-doo.
Here's the thing: I worry every day that I won't be well again.
Here's the thing: I really miss you.
Here's the thing: I'm waiting for you to show up and sweep me away. Honestly.
I wish I had something interesting and silly and thought-provoking to say, but I don't. I wish I'd find something cathartic to study, but I can't. I wish I had a pair of arms that would hold me -- even if I raged and sobbed and laughed all at the same time. But I'm not sure I do.
Here's the thing: I am at my rope's end.
posted by Ophelia at 5:22 PM
3 Comments:
*try's thinking of something funny to say about "his" that doesn't also sound realy, realy dirty....and fails*
Matt
Here's the thing: I can't get enough of you telling me.
Thirteen hours, thirteen apostles.. and all I thought about was the crucifix..
Maybe it was the blood, falling for you.
.drop.drop.drop.drop.
Just remember that the mind is a muscle. When someone tells you to relax every muscle in your body, your mind is a muscle that needs to be relaxed. I think that this is one of those moments you need to take so that you don't get a cramp of the head. Let your mind go on hiatus for a while. You may find that it's nice to blend in with the sheep for a few hours or even days.
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