Bled Out Onto a Page

Feel. Release. Heal.

41 notes

Words left unsaid

It was during one of those
Late night talks
In which our words
Were barely breathed whispers
When you lamented
The fact that you were not perfect.
You said your heart
And soul
(My favorite parts of you)
Were cracked
shattered
long ago
And
How you can’t
Even remember
Who still had
The missing pieces.
I held you closer
Kissed your forehead
And said nothing.
No matter which words I used
They would never
Find their way
To your ears.
You never understood
I loved you
Because you were broken
And I
Wouldn’t have you
Any
Other
Way.

Filed under poem poetry spilled ink

2 notes

Chuck:
I just found out that the haunted house I work for is gonna be run by Rob Zombie! I might get to meet him!
Me:
Will you give him a message for me?
Chuck:
I...uh...what is it?
Me:
Tell him to stop putting his wife in movies. She's fucking awful.

4 notes

Kat:
So, we were drinking PBR and...
Me:
Why?
Kat:
I like PBR.
Me:
But why?
Kat:
Because it fucks you up and it's really cheap.
Me:
That's because it tastes like hobo piss. Actually, it probably is hobo piss and that's why it fucks you up so much. You're drinking trace amounts of mescaline and hooker blood.

Filed under pbr hipster swill

11 notes

I know it cuts you deep
Whenever I disappear
Without so much as a call
And you add it up to
Another in a long list
Of broken promises
But maybe I’m just trying
To spare you the pain
And me the shame
Of seeing how it’s
All come down to this.

Filed under poetry poem spilled ink

11 notes

About to perform for the first time in 3 years. Uncontrollable shakes are a good thing, right?