elliott

the only way i know how to love is obsessive, spiritual and with my whole being

the way you smile becomes my prayer

your words the religious text

the hymns you speak will consume my matter and all i can do is sing your praises

so how dare you turn when i crucify myself in the name of your virtue

the only offering i have to give my own blood

when my rosaries are made of teeth and hair

and the scripture i write has stains of my essence

you will run away like the others

leave me stranded once more on the marble i used to create your altar

so ill shut myself in again

learn to live my life in solitude all over

until the next messiah comes and lights up my life

robin finck 1994

but they should really all know better,

than to take the fucking bait

that I’ve been dangling from this building

with my goosebumps in the cold.

I am nothing but a story for a man until I’m sold.

and he can tell it in the lobby, to the old men at the bar

they’ll all clink his cup

and make shit up.

to take it all too far,

they’ll tell a lie about the summer

where they “once had me alone”

and I’ll reside inside a sonnet.

I’m a picture in a phone.

I’ve aged beyond the angel they all saw inside me then.

a grotesque and fading memory

trapped underneath a pen.

Cry over things i don't need.

My mother told me "pick your battles wisely"

But you made me angry

At the world