Knuckle deep.

Oh how the mighty keep falling. They said that it was the end of the world. But it turns out it was only the end of me. I forget things because I’m already dead. I just don't know it yet. When you're at the top there's only one place left to go, and I'm feeling dizzy from this downward spiral. I'm a victim to the fierce natural tones of a lustful negotiation. I'm breathing and for a lack of a better word I'm slaving over this courtship to insure I'm worth the effort. But clearly you say you love me and only me. But I bet you say that to all the guys who were knuckle deep in love. Just throw all your empty promises in the well and make a wish about all the times you got carpet burns. I've made some pretty bad mistakes, but you were my prettiest one. And you're the kind of mistake I would never learn from. I'd kill myself for you but I'd rather kill you for myself. I was always expecting you but not so soon. Not while I was in the grips of my young nihilist life. Self loathing, self destructive, self pity, self indulgence. It seems as though everything is always about me. But those are the same words I use to describe you. It's probably a good thing I left you out there in the rain. A flower like you deserves to drown in her own drama. Like animals we keep coming back for more. Yet we live in the cradle of mankind. Yet we live in the death of civilization. Let my last words be I dare you. Let your trigger finger itch. Just take what you want and me down with you. Few things can set me free like a gun shot to the head and the smell of you on my sheets. You say you're different from the last but you're just the same as the first.

Reviews

[emmajoy]

Yet more sadnesses, more dark thoughts and feelings, but you write them so finely, If misery can be raging beauty, then this is what it is. Somehow, reading this a second time, i feel like voyeur into your mind, or reading through a very private journal. Extraordnary writing in its own way.