![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
empallinpoems and images about the suffering of black death vodka and the t word
the first one was written just now and the other two were written circa 1991. Eventually I will actually explain the fulll story but for now you either half to suffer, or you already know the whole messy story.. i do not care for the titles on the old ones but it does not feel right to change them. Please accept an apology on that matter. images were pulled from the same note books that contaoned the last two poems. they will reappear with the rest of the story. i hope you enjoy this one. it hurt then. it hurts now.
Reopening The Wound
the bottle has been uncorked
the song have been sung
he bought you all those flowers
to lay beside his grave
the children game to play
as you were walking out the door
always though it was better
to lose what you could save
there was dust on the bottle
and the tape had been destroyed
and for some unknown reason
all this made you smile
i heard you moved out west
to try to beat the deal
you mother always taught you
to chance that extra mile
it never could have lasted
singing that corrosion
yet i still carried the torch
for many years too long
you had to get you money
for the very last time
so little of the story left
please fuck off and so long
My Bottle Of Black Death
this bottle that reminds me of you
reminds me of where i've been
i've always liked vodka now and then
this is being saved for you and your memory
when your gone off with someone new
leaving me to glue the pieces together
i'll start this bottle and think of you
i'll drink you all the way to the bottom
then maybe run through the streets
telling the world how sad it feels to be free
telling myself that the freedom is good
i got played the fool and it's over
lost myself in a place far away
drinking you away as i walk back to look
sleeping with the hollow i've got
singing myself to sleep with the blues
and if this bottle is not enough to do
i'll buy as many as it takes
i'll drink you all the way to the bottom
of every stinking one of them
ill toss them all away the next morning
wish it well and say goodbye to you
goodbye to you in a way you'll never know
More On The Black Death
and what could be more appropreate?
killing the pain
killing the memories
remembering that part of me that died
killed by harsh realities
filled by this forbidden saviour
and a hand full of cigarette butts
i'll do it alone
that's the only way i know how
it's got to be me in there
me alone
i don't care what they say
they're not wearing my shoes
wouldn't want to either
all the cigarette gone
that's when it will be over
that's when i'll start my life over
it can never be that easy
it's not going to be either
i'm just taking my time
longing for that day - someday
when i can kill that bottle
give the black death a turn
to kill the rest of the pain
all in due time
all i need right now is time
and maybe another cigarette
[edit: 012703 - images added/some content added]
the first one was written just now and the other two were written circa 1991. Eventually I will actually explain the fulll story but for now you either half to suffer, or you already know the whole messy story.. i do not care for the titles on the old ones but it does not feel right to change them. Please accept an apology on that matter. images were pulled from the same note books that contaoned the last two poems. they will reappear with the rest of the story. i hope you enjoy this one. it hurt then. it hurts now.
Reopening The Wound
the bottle has been uncorked
the song have been sung
he bought you all those flowers
to lay beside his grave
the children game to play
as you were walking out the door
always though it was better
to lose what you could save
there was dust on the bottle
and the tape had been destroyed
and for some unknown reason
all this made you smile
i heard you moved out west
to try to beat the deal
you mother always taught you
to chance that extra mile
it never could have lasted
singing that corrosion
yet i still carried the torch
for many years too long
you had to get you money
for the very last time
so little of the story left
please fuck off and so long
My Bottle Of Black Death
this bottle that reminds me of you
reminds me of where i've been
i've always liked vodka now and then
this is being saved for you and your memory
when your gone off with someone new
leaving me to glue the pieces together
i'll start this bottle and think of you
i'll drink you all the way to the bottom
then maybe run through the streets
telling the world how sad it feels to be free
telling myself that the freedom is good
i got played the fool and it's over
lost myself in a place far away
drinking you away as i walk back to look
sleeping with the hollow i've got
singing myself to sleep with the blues
and if this bottle is not enough to do
i'll buy as many as it takes
i'll drink you all the way to the bottom
of every stinking one of them
ill toss them all away the next morning
wish it well and say goodbye to you
goodbye to you in a way you'll never know
More On The Black Death
and what could be more appropreate?
killing the pain
killing the memories
remembering that part of me that died
killed by harsh realities
filled by this forbidden saviour
and a hand full of cigarette butts
i'll do it alone
that's the only way i know how
it's got to be me in there
me alone
i don't care what they say
they're not wearing my shoes
wouldn't want to either
all the cigarette gone
that's when it will be over
that's when i'll start my life over
it can never be that easy
it's not going to be either
i'm just taking my time
longing for that day - someday
when i can kill that bottle
give the black death a turn
to kill the rest of the pain
all in due time
all i need right now is time
and maybe another cigarette
[edit: 012703 - images added/some content added]
