(borne and done) |
Wendy might remember some slivers of this madness but me...fuck, i'm just a rider. back to the idiot kid slow cold sipping the unfamiliar and waiting for the walls to break down this last time after t...
Posted by Kid Swinging on Mon, 09 Jul 2007 12:27:00 PST |
(when missing concrete) |
Pass a glance over that sweet caress and blame your countenance as courage.
Fuck it.
These well read love songs don't bring in the drinks they used. the customers. the coy. the startled pauses at disc...
Posted by Kid Swinging on Wed, 27 Jun 2007 10:13:00 PST |
(when he killed again) |
We never burned a damn thing, did we? just let it live and die of its own accord somewhere down by the place we used to call our own before the real times came on in and ruined it for the sinners and ...
Posted by Kid Swinging on Thu, 21 Jun 2007 10:51:00 PST |
(when in it) |
And how the boy goes lax in these uncertain vibrations...it seems there's never so much to rant in, raving his hands up over the shackles of injustice he's just been too lazy, too mad, too swallowed i...
Posted by Kid Swinging on Tue, 12 Jun 2007 11:08:00 PST |
(sleeping scissors) |
It's a catnap, kids. this pass at a phase. this thrust light and sore voice even when the balm keeps rubbing the right way under the bed i used to live in year after year before it made the most sense...
Posted by Kid Swinging on Tue, 13 Mar 2007 10:05:00 PST |
(temple crush) |
The dark comes back in warm and wet, familiar gauze to bind again tonight.
It's been so long.
Seems so fucking strange.
But a certain pulse eclipsed the stunned face i must have been wearing when i wa...
Posted by Kid Swinging on Thu, 08 Mar 2007 10:53:00 PST |
(sleeping letters) |
Pain the grave in train tracks and kiss this sunday bliss away with heaps and mounds of unkept futures that warrant attention the likes of which i am not so suited to give what with the gray and the h...
Posted by Kid Swinging on Sun, 04 Mar 2007 01:23:00 PST |
(fist for the dynastics) |
He wished his part a double life. a hidden fiasco of blood left trailing behind the drugs and mistakes. the false names and accusations riddling the evening papers he would collect in gleeful secret a...
Posted by Kid Swinging on Fri, 02 Mar 2007 11:14:00 PST |
(spin grounds) |
It's always easier when you're drunk. when your eyes thin and welcome in the last anecdotes of the evening like a fucking hero coming home to sit on the weary nape of your neck where you could rest if...
Posted by Kid Swinging on Thu, 01 Mar 2007 10:28:00 PST |
(succour sides) |
He left off somewhere in frenzy screaming nonsense about how she was wrong and this whole thing had been fucked so long it was a wonder he hadn't done a number on his own dead door because, at least t...
Posted by Kid Swinging on Tue, 27 Feb 2007 09:19:00 PST |
