UzumakiWade
Active member
Hope you enjoy, i never really worked on the titles so they may not sound good lol.
Voices
where are they now, the voices in your head
the ghosts that you knew from a long time ago
the phantoms that held your head between their teeth
and gnawed and the flesh on your feet
they told you stories about broken souls
they were talking about you
where are they now, the voices in your head
the caricatures that made a home in your skull
they cajoled you out of sleep
their ghostly fingers wrapped around your throat
their tongues stained with blood and glittered truths
and you wondered if you were ever
really comfortable in your own skin
where are they now, the voices in your head
the voices that led you to your death bed
you grew weary as they devoured you whole
they took your soul for their own
and you were left with nothing but
the shattered remains of who you once were
you’re dead now, only the bones remain
nothing but a carcass deep in eternal slumber
but the smell of your skin lingers on my sheets
and the sound of your voice haunting me
where are you now
Darling
the world was an unending cycle between misery and insanity
or that’s what you said when you held that bottle in your hand
as you molded yourself into the folds of my body
your lips captured mine and I still can’t get
the taste of you out of my tongue
you were a creature of misfortune
a fabrication of broken realities
a hurricane that spoke in metaphors
you were the sunrise i thought I’d never wake up to
but now you are the sleepless nights and the ashtrays on my bedside table
i want death to wrap its boney fingers around my throat
and rid me of this poison that is the memory of your fingertips
trailing down the skin of my spine
i can still feel the warmth of your breath on my neck
but there is a hole on the side of my bed
a hole you left behind when you left me
when you left your mark
you etched yourself into my cranium
like the coffee stains on your shirt
a stain that can never be removed
i want you out of my head, darling
Papa
brutal fingers and a forked tongue
you thought you could swallow the sun
but all you ever did was swallow,
swallow, swallow
you suck on the mouths of cold-hearted whores
but their fingers dance only in your pockets
she looks at the door every day
praying that you don’t ever come home
but you do, you always do
with a bottle in hand and a clutched fist
papa, you’ve killed her already
why break what’s already broken
there is no god where you’re from
only cheap whisky and guilt and misogyny
why do you smile so effortlessly, papa
when mama is bleeding on the floor
and your hands feel so cold
wrapped around my neck
you kept me in a box and you buried me
beside the wildflowers
where no one would find me
this coffin wasn’t meant for me
it was meant for you
papa, can you still hear me screaming
The Dead
you had beautiful eyes
but they had always looked so tired
you were always so tired
you hardly ever slept
because you believed that
sleep was only for the dead
but your lies were only fooling yourself
insomnia held it’s cold grip around your throat
and you fought your exhaustion
with cold coffee and cigarettes
they never did work, did they
your sleepless nights made you lonely
and so you threw parties
so you never felt the brush of loneliness
Voices
where are they now, the voices in your head
the ghosts that you knew from a long time ago
the phantoms that held your head between their teeth
and gnawed and the flesh on your feet
they told you stories about broken souls
they were talking about you
where are they now, the voices in your head
the caricatures that made a home in your skull
they cajoled you out of sleep
their ghostly fingers wrapped around your throat
their tongues stained with blood and glittered truths
and you wondered if you were ever
really comfortable in your own skin
where are they now, the voices in your head
the voices that led you to your death bed
you grew weary as they devoured you whole
they took your soul for their own
and you were left with nothing but
the shattered remains of who you once were
you’re dead now, only the bones remain
nothing but a carcass deep in eternal slumber
but the smell of your skin lingers on my sheets
and the sound of your voice haunting me
where are you now
Darling
the world was an unending cycle between misery and insanity
or that’s what you said when you held that bottle in your hand
as you molded yourself into the folds of my body
your lips captured mine and I still can’t get
the taste of you out of my tongue
you were a creature of misfortune
a fabrication of broken realities
a hurricane that spoke in metaphors
you were the sunrise i thought I’d never wake up to
but now you are the sleepless nights and the ashtrays on my bedside table
i want death to wrap its boney fingers around my throat
and rid me of this poison that is the memory of your fingertips
trailing down the skin of my spine
i can still feel the warmth of your breath on my neck
but there is a hole on the side of my bed
a hole you left behind when you left me
when you left your mark
you etched yourself into my cranium
like the coffee stains on your shirt
a stain that can never be removed
i want you out of my head, darling
Papa
brutal fingers and a forked tongue
you thought you could swallow the sun
but all you ever did was swallow,
swallow, swallow
you suck on the mouths of cold-hearted whores
but their fingers dance only in your pockets
she looks at the door every day
praying that you don’t ever come home
but you do, you always do
with a bottle in hand and a clutched fist
papa, you’ve killed her already
why break what’s already broken
there is no god where you’re from
only cheap whisky and guilt and misogyny
why do you smile so effortlessly, papa
when mama is bleeding on the floor
and your hands feel so cold
wrapped around my neck
you kept me in a box and you buried me
beside the wildflowers
where no one would find me
this coffin wasn’t meant for me
it was meant for you
papa, can you still hear me screaming
The Dead
you had beautiful eyes
but they had always looked so tired
you were always so tired
you hardly ever slept
because you believed that
sleep was only for the dead
but your lies were only fooling yourself
insomnia held it’s cold grip around your throat
and you fought your exhaustion
with cold coffee and cigarettes
they never did work, did they
your sleepless nights made you lonely
and so you threw parties
so you never felt the brush of loneliness
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