the fluffy kitten's stories

4 real

I wrote of that lost soul, of this lost soul. It was distressed and distressing yet all about the shock and awe.  He cleaved his thoughts, he carved his path, and he became this uniquely disturbed hero to worship.  His words showing everything that is wrong with the world in sickening symphonies.  It’s better to burn out than to fade away.  But where did he go to? Lost in his own crumpled head? Cutting out slices of himself time after time after time, in so much apparent pain and misery. So much mystery, this fallen idol.  No pretence in the pretentious, it’s all just there for all those that understand, that feel the barbs and the spikes digging into their skin day after day after day.  That emotional pain is torture. And torture is emotional pain. And everything has double meanings when your head is that obtuse. Oh god why couldn’t he have taken us all with him? Left our last artistic flairs with his. He left, everyone leaves. He faded away.

“She’d walk on broken glass for love
She thought burnt skin would please her lover
To keep love alive and lust beside
Kind people should never be treated like…

Empty arms and naked heart
Violence, a sad truth followed with a
Table for two, such a sweet delight
Whispers “I love you my darling” tonight

Love bathed her in a bath of bleach
Brush her hair, no one else will
Don’t hurt her anymore, stop now
But salmon pink skin memories took care of…

Empty arms and naked heart
Violence, a sad truth followed with a
A table for two - such a sweet delight
Whispers “I love you my darling” tonight”