*VIVA VOCE.

03.24.03 @ 6:30 pm

we dream in still frames; in pictures when our memories can rebuild themselves once again and all the hatred we harbor for ourselves of the wrong decisions we made those nights while under the influence of love and other deadly toxins like that haunt our minds once again and flow through our veins like chloroform. we live in negatives and positives where the feelings we abhor are canceled out like a sword through a heart or a kiss plus or minus a kill. add a fortunate occurence and subtract the clock ticking and you're left with zero [zero memories/zero wishes/zero kicks&&&zero kisses]. we love in seconds to minutes to hours to days in hopes that time will start going backwards and we can revisit what we once felt [because its all turned to shit now]. we've recorded love in black and blues left from bruised kisses that you've beaten yourself up for/in scars trailing up our arms that we can only wish were sliced deeper to the vein/in black eyeliner streaking down your cheeks from bloody tears leaving the remainder of this soil to leak into your pours and come flowing back out of your eyes. we die in matches striking up a chord played by flowered arsenals pointed right down your throat [to shoot flowers through the back of your head and kill you with beauty/tragedy/&&& thorns]. we document out death in petals leading up to your casket/in empty bottles of Jack tossed next to empty bottles of Aspirin/in black eyes and bloody knuckles praying for the next fight/in sleep and what i'll never have.

if i ever had anything close to a mind of my own i'd want to cut myself a new mouth and bleed you a smile ear to ear.
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