///caramelized heart


stitched up with wretched wire
carried in my back pocket

used things have no place in this world
stuffed with memories transfixed

bandages adhesive
sometimes falls apart
hours, days, years - spent replacing pieces

enveloped in black agony
tissues marred with bloody residue

there is such a thin line to everything
beats erratically, comes highly recommended

i-miss-you-tears fall quickly
onto wrists opened vertically to God
spill life on shallow ground

///untitled 614

vinyl lumber jack
i love the way my name
quivers in the back of your throat

minute tick like the metronome
but my palms are numb with you
filling me up with this
intranssient momentum

this is sacred
this memory can never be taken
not by anyone,

not even god

your name stains my right shoulder

wingless dove of mine

Chupa Chupa, I understand that this is merely a concept product and thank G.O.D that there are folks like Moscow's Firma who are able to well adapt to the filthy minds and mouths of us all, but seriously: PRODUCE, PACKAGE & PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE MARKET these phenom licks.
You've got my vote!

Let me preface this entry: I've been a member of SG for 5 years and I've been online since I was in the womb and never once have a written a blog post. Can someone please explain why it's called a blog and not an archive of thought (B.Walker, don't take that literally)? Regardless, I'm ready to stop licking the glass, so to all you SG girls out there, an adoring fan begins to write...

/// the coldest night


"put away the silver spun dreams."
i told myself

as the drugs whispered bitter refrains
into my bleeding ear

forever afraid of my own hands,
the two killers always at my throat

i know i'm not right
the army of enemies i have tell me so

"i'll slip away quietly,"
i told myself
as the knife slid in effortlessly between my ribs

they will too live pooled in motionless mass
at my chilling feet and murdering hands