I did this piece as the first out of the shots i had taken of brooke – because it was what i WANTED to do… the weight slithering grave upon her bare shoulders. The softness the sweetness the torn edge of the night…
these are lyrics from a song that i wrote and recorded very badly on shocking equipment.
In the morning I watch you cry in your sleep.
Make up in lines all over your cheek…
It hurts you the most when people are kind;
Like a burn or a scalpel in your mind.
It’s only me, just me, that’s all.
Going mad outside in the hall.
You’ve got a messy heart cutting up your ribs;
Sex and sweat and bloody red lips,
You stink of heat and turpentine,
You sleep with me in a sickness of time…
And now it’s happy hour on a Friday night
And I’m walking around with a head full of light
Exhausted and lonely
Fragile and ugly
Tricked into empathy
Hacked out of destiny
Find some truth,
When the sun stops
When the letter burns;
While the blood
I know it’s my fault x 10
Murder the light with your skinny arms
Smokin’ and crying cuz you know what you are.
In a seizure of life my sweet born liar
Where-ever you touch me is a white hot wire…
You were shaking naked above me
Tearing the pages out of my diary…
And all that I want is to take you to bed
But you’re screamin’ at me cuz I lost my meds
But now it’s happy hour on a Friday night
And I’m walking around with a head full of light.
I know it’s my fault x 8
Push my head to your chest so I can hear your heart.
Open your eyes and see the dark
Hold me down and read what I wrote.
Open my mouth
And fucking scream down my throat.