I can't stop thinking about sticking my hand in the fan

I miss the sensation of nails underneath my skin

I’ve been thinking about puppygirls a lot. A certain hit-disguised-as-a-think piece has emboldened a lot of people to take action against the degenerate pests besmirching the good name of trans women. This action is of course the only action many of them know: posting.

The radio is playing my heartbeat I can hear it through the wall Who's listening other than me The TV calls My name beyond the floor It's a little The freezer hums in monotones I put my head inside and close The door

It's so weird. I spend most of my days locked into one room. And yet, I don't feel like I've spent any time in here at all. All my memories are confined to this tiny space; they fit neatly inside these white concrete slabs. Then why does it feel so far and foreign, like somebody else's dream.

"It's only a short walk to heaven" but I've been wandering for a while now. The shrinking interval of my heartbeats serve as a constant reminder of every wrong turn I've taken. I've course corrected enough times to wake up in the same bed every day. I'm tired.

What's the right age to die? Everybody just keeps living

Solitary confinement in the skies is an apt punishment for the thorns on your veins. Oxygen thin dreams can't blanket the cold

Think back to the times When your blood seemed to shine beneath your skin Boring days In hindsight

You are half my soul as I am half of yours. It took me this long to find you, and yet you are incorrigibly set on your intent to misplace yourself at the first opportunity. I've watched you create those opportunities yourself countless times; the look of regret in your eyes precedes the sin.

Blood red nails turned gems in ecstasy

You ripped from my fingers the gift of language and left me an abomination, slowly rotting spectator to my own demise, until

There's ways to forget things to remember

As the water eats away at my skin and at my insides, I ponder the meaning of your tears. If we shared a language, perhaps we could do more than stare.

Count down from fifty and five, think about who hides inside. Count up from fifty and four, forget about me forevermore

What will befall the man bold enough to defile history and imagination in one, as he, fool that he is, sets out to extinguish the ancient flame.

Dance with me dance with me dance with me You mustn't hold his hand and you mustn't touch her hips Without the sun in your eyes and without the wind in your steps I will wilt and die in this dress

I have not made a single correct choice in my life

Take your last breath where I can't hear it. Your demise is better suited for ink and paper.

Mechanical fantasy, bear traps and oil bleed Blunt teeth keep the tongue sharp, and heartburn keeps lung warm Put more force in your step, if you want to see the sun set

It's panic attack monday i should have killed myself yesterday

Rust on my tongue, rust on your feet. Does it feel like home to you, the way it tastes like home to me

A tissue and a shotgun and a stock market cold. Hold a remedial nature towards unaccounted teeth in your smile

You're not betrayed Because you knew it would happen And their hearts still beat If you cover your ears So tell me could you believe In goldfish astronauts

Six times Burned down and born again Searching for the promised land No map in hand but carved in skin I'll burn again I'll burn again

Think of the capital sewer rat, put your foot in a mouse trap

Dreaming of death again

become ash with me

When you find me in your cavern eyes, can you tell, that is, does instinct whisper, with breath cold as a reaper's, in your ear what might not be true, but entices enough to rekindle those ancient senses of premonition. Those we carry, unbeknownst to us, out of long since discarded tradition.

I guess you'll stay in my heart till you die, I only ask you give me a call when it's time

I want to get drunk with you, but I don't drink, and you don't live here anymore

Cannibalistic tendencies Fan the statistic friends eaten

Dig your teeth deeper down my rotten flesh Make me writhe beneath your dress Strip me of my skin Strip me of my sins

Cut your skin on my strings, pray the wound infects

I'm always one breath away from my head exploding

Babe, I know you're not real and all, but could you pick up some milk on your way? Love you, always.

I don't want to wake up anymore. Please

Childhood days The stars pierced so clearly through the dark Now I'm left to wonder where they are

My rust-torn keys are wholly unbecome of their place among your golden fingers. They will stain your skin, should you inspect them any further. I fear they shall stain your heart too, should you attempt to swallow them in the gaze of your insatiable curiosity. Won't you please return them, my keys.

My lady, you must fall as one of the damned, but I shall stand. And I will walk. Once again to find my place, as I belong, by your side. No fate and no destiny, no gods and no stars, and no man, can ever lay their blade to the path we've woven. You must never forget this. Now fall, my lady.

One day I will look back on the books I've fallen in love with until now, and realize I've imbued them all with terrible memories

Once again plagued by the desire of becoming a puppygirl

I'll tear off my arm at the warmth of your touch. You ought to know by now, I'm not afraid blood.

Wipe away those tears girl. You can still see the end.

Your eyes bear new horror, every time we meet.

Slip through velvet curtains, there lies all we loved. All I want is to hold your hand.

Everything you need for the price of everything you want

Don't you understand. You will do as I say. You will live as I say. And you will die on my grave.

Take sandpaper to your voice, what is the point. Cut away and pray somebody likes your corpse

I hear they will burn this world down back in 1998. Take me with you, if you plan to stay.