I Greet Social Anxiety with Live Rounds
By climaks
In this whorehouse, left for dead
Ghastly harlots in my head
Bodies bleeding red
From dead lips pontificating
Empty laughter from carcasses
Punchbowls filled with cadavers
I can’t get anyone to dance
So I’m going to church to get plastered
I wish I had friends
To stick with me until the end
Of this dagger’s sweaty hilt
And use kerosene to douse the guilt
Burn baby, burn and see the light
If you feel betrayed I’ve done it right
My conversations always end like this
Hanging from cliffs and filled with bullets
All these voices leaking shit
Starving chickens eating it
Mouths bleating thick
From dead lips pontificating
Cold breaths from dying acts
(I’m having a good time really)
Red cups draining what matters
(I’m enjoying the company)
Everyone is up and dancing
(I can’t drink I’m driving)
Their hearts are beating faster
Faster
(Murder is simple when the victims plastered)
I wish I had friends
To stick with me until the end
Of this dagger’s sweaty hilt
And use kerosene to douse the guilt
Burn baby, burn and see the light
If you feel betrayed I’ve done it right
My conversations always end like this…
Hanging from cliffs and filled with bullets
We’re acquaintances to say the most
Body bags stuffed with my closest friends
An awkward kid with a mind to boast
Distressed expressions in the darkest places
Nothing to lose and buddies to gain
I’ll char those smug grin off of your faces
I’ll need a name to put on your graves
My conversations always end up like this
So I’ll forever be that awkward kid
Comments on "I Greet Social Anxiety with Live Rounds"
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A former member wrote:
This kind of read, to me, like a song. Maybe it was the repetions, not that it was a bad thing :) I enjoyed this piece, nice write.
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On Sunday, November 15, 2009, Phalanx
(628) wrote:
I think you're alright. Someone I could probably be friends with. This was an excellent work, it really hit home. thanks for sharing, I appreciate it.