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Thursday, 20 April 2017

TORE THROUGH ME


You put your hands through me and tore out my heart.
Sucked me like an orange then tore me apart.
You dissected me and sold me for parts.

F*cked a niccur up whilst on his knees...
You didn't want no 18 karat.

Was it my kungfu kicks while we fvcked, i thought you loved those.
You always asked for more, way past the physician's prescribed dose.
All you wanted was my cheese, not to be by my side to strike a pose.
So now what am i looking at? what are those?


My heart in your hands.
My head bowed in shame, my confidence in shreds.
Find me where my head's in my hands, hidden behind my dreads.
Refusing to confront all that i dread.
No more beginnings... just ends.

Promises that you'd hit the heights with me... that you'd say i do.
How do i carry on? are u seriously
saying "Make i carry go? "
These days my nights last for 'bout 24 hours.

The reality that what i thought was ours... was actually just mine.
Tears on the ground and on my pillow, these days all around me is a swamp.
Memories from the late night camps, can't get you out of my thoughts... all i see are your stamps.
Atleast where's my heart... show me the map.

So that piece by piece i could maybe find peace.
Imagine walking through the streets with a hole in your left chest.
Imagine carrying a cross through to Golgotha, with no hope of the easter.
Your laughter in my brain... oh!! how it went from cute to sinister.

Now all i do is puke when i think about you.
All i do is listen to 'More Life' and wonder how you got my views blurred.
How do i roll on from this i ain't even sure.
You twirled your wrists a couple of times, and like David... from your sling a stone flew.

Bulls eye... and it knocked my heart out of my chest.
Prrrrrr...it's over the umpire blew.
I've lost... beaten black and blue.
I'm shocked... but i don't want my injuries sewn.

Let the scars expand like lines of the
Greenwich on the atlas.
So each time i look at 'em, they serve as a reminder.

They serve to remind me to pump the brakes on trust.
To remind me that there's never really a "we" or "us".
To remind me that once in a while i need to stay up on my high horse.
To not lay it all on the table, as ignorance is not always bliss,
So if you ask me why i act heartless... i'ld redirect you that way, in the path of she who tore my heart out.
Hence if i become a lover with the bloodshot eyes of the undead.
You now know where to trace the origin of my fangs to.


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