Swallow Me Down ~ Slit Your Fucking Throat

Swallow Me Down ~ Slit Your Fucking Throat

I pace, alone
In a place for the dead
Overcome by woe
And here, I've grown
So fond of dread
That I swear it's heaven

Oh sweet May,
Dressed in grief
Roll back the stone

With these words scrawled in a severed hand
Tears fall like shards of glass that band
In rivers, like sinners
Swept with me to join the damned

A darkened sky
The day that laughter died
Fell swiftly into night
And stayed within Her sight
Staring at the knife
Oh God, how easy now the sacrifice
My life, to have Her with me

So farewell to distant thunder
Those inept stars I've worshipped under
Fall father, their Father
Lies in wait in flames below
Whilst my love, a blood red flower
Calls to me from verdant bowers
Graveside, I cry
Please save me from this Hell I know

A darkened sky
The day that laughter died
Fell swiftly into night
And stayed within Her sight
Staring at the knife
Oh God, how easy now to sacrifice
My life, to have Her with me

An eye for an eye as espied in the bible
My faith is lost to the burning of idols
One less cross to press upon the survival
Of this lorded agony

And I, (much as I have tried
To bury Her from mind,
Fate's tourniquet was tied, when She died...)
Still sense Her presence so divine
Lithe arms about my throat
Like pining swans entwined
Footfalls at nightfall close to mine

Suicide is a tried and tested formula for release

I snatch Her whisper like the wind through cedars
See Her face in every natural feature
Midst the mist and sleepy hollows of fever...
With glee deceiving me

Suicide is a tried and tested formula for release

I hear Her voice from where the grave defies Her
Sirensong to sing along, no finer
Suicide notes, harmonised in a minor
Strike a chord with misery

No light nor reef
No unsinkable of romance keeps me
Safely from the stormy seas
Now drowning, resounding
Death-knells pound my dreams
Unthinkable to dredge through this
Listless and lonely winter frieze

A darken sky
This day hereafter dies
Falls swiftly into night
Abd stays within my sight
Staring at the knife
Oh God, how ease it was to sacrifice
My life, to have Her with me

No more a victim of a crusade
Where souls are strung from a moral palisade
I slit my wrists and quickly slip away...
I journey now on jewelled sands
Beneath a moon to Summerlands
To grace Her lips with contraband
The blaze once in my veins

With tears streaming ever so silently down my soft cheeks, I look to my left. There, sitting innocently on the blankets is a tiny, shining metal blade. A heaven to me. Slowly, I reach across the bed and lift it tenderly with my tumb and index finger. The metal feels cool at first, then hellishly warm. I wince slightly. My imagination must be running tricks again. I raise the blade to my left wrist and drop the blade silently on my pale, scarred skin. Slowly, I push down and pull the blade towards me. A line of chrimson appears. Like a general calling for reinforcements, the line gets longer and more and more of the deep, dark liguid appears. It streams down my arm, making slug like marks as it goes. I pull the blade out gingerly from between my folds of skin. I wipe a tear away and watch the blood fall onto my shirt. I put my hand back down and worry that it will stain. "Why are you worried? You won't be here to clean it" my mind retorts to me. I wipe the blade clean on my now stained shirt and look into it. I can see myself in it, as if I were looking at me from a distance. I move it quickly away from me. I don't want my last image to be me. My shaky hand returns the blade to my skin, and I repeat the painful motion. The lines blend and blur before my eyes. Gently, I place my drenched arm on a folded shirt and lay back onto my bed. I focus on the pain, the throbbing. My attention turns to the new form of tears that has made its way to my eyes. I wipe them away. I should feel better any moment now. I start feeling weak, as if I hadn't slept in years. My body aches, my mind pounds. I roll over to look at my wrist.

That was the last thing I ever saw.

Dolefully Desired.

Destiny Of A Lie.

Swim In My Soul

Allow The Blood To Flow

Never Say You're Sorry

There is nothing more depressing then life.

You Know You Are Morbid When:

=You tag onto funeral processions.
=The town undertakers know you by name.
=You are the recognised "local authority" on your town's cemetary.
=You see dead people.
=No one describes you as either, "Happy Go Lucky" or "That Girl With The Sunny Personality".
=You've had your funeral planned since you were 10 years old.
=You have lists of epitaph's you think are "cool".

Random Thoughts:

=Sometimes a little brain damage can help.
=If you love someone, set them free, if they come home, set them on fire.
=Most people are not particularly good at anything.
=The only good thing ever to come out of religion was the music.
=Slap a dead person.
=Why can't there be more suffering??
=I almost don't feel the way I do.
=I am not in compliance.
=There are nights when the wolves are silent, and only the moon howls.
=If we could just find out who's in charge, we could kill him.
=Nothing is so boring as listening to someone else describe a dream.
="No Comment", is a comment.
=I am repelled by wholesomeness.
=Hobbies are for people who lack direction.
=Why don't they have dessert at breakfast??
=You never see a smiling runner.
=Sometimes on a rainy day I sit around and weed the losers out of my address book.
=Think off-centre.
=Assisted suicide is controversial. There are moral, medical, legal and ethical arguments. But the truth of it is, a lot of people just want to get the fuck outta here.
=I like it when a flower or a little tuft of grass grows through a crack in the concrete. It's so fuckin' heroic.
=No one can ever know for sure what a deserted area looks like.
=I never watch "Sesame Street". I know most of that stuff.
=Bother the weak.
=A cemetary is a place where dead people live.
=I think you ought to be able to lease a dog.
=Life is a near death experience.
=After a big flood-where do all those rowboats go??
=Don't you get tired of all those cereal commercials where they show the milk being poured in slow motion and splashing off a strawberry??
=Remember inside every silver lining there's a dark cloud.
=I hate celebrity couples who adopt a third world baby and call it Rain Forest.

Charities:

=St. Anthony's Shelter for the Recently All Right.
=The Christian Haven for the Chronically Fiesty.
=The Committee to Keep Something - or - Other from Taking Place.
=The Centre for Research into the Heebie Jeebies.
=Free Hats for Fat People.
=The Task Force for Better Pancakes.
=The Home for the Visually Unpleasant.
=The State Hospital for Those Who Felt All Right About a Year Ago.
=The Chamber of Poor Taste.
=The Alliance of People Who Don't Know What's Next.
=The Downtown Mission for the Permanently Disheveled.
=The Home for the Unimportant.
=The Nook for Needy Nuns.
=Children of Parents with Bad Teeth.
=The League of People Who Should Know Better.
=Hors d'Oeuvres for Bangladesh.
=The Brotherhood of Real Creeps.

Ways To Be Offensive At A Funeral:

=Tell the widow that you're the deceased's gay lover.
=Ask someone to take a photo of you shaking hands with the deceased.
=Walk around telling people you've seen the will and they're not in it.
=Tell the undertaker that your dog just died and ask him if he can sneak him into the coffin.
=Leave some phony dog poop on top of the deceased.
=Tell the widow that you have to leave early and ask if the will can be read before the funeral.
=Urge the widow to give the deceased's wooden leg to someone poor who can't afford firewood.
=Walk around telling people that the deceased didn't like them.
=Use the deceased's tongue to lick a stamp.
=Take up a collection to pay off the deceased's gambling debts.
=Ask the widow if you can have the body to practice tattooing on.
=Show up at the funeral services in a clown suit.
=When no-one's looking, slip vampire teeth into the deceased's mouth.
=Toss a handful of cooked rice on to the deceased and scream "MAGGOTS!!!", and pretend to faint.
=At the cemetary take bets on how long it takes a body to decompose.
=Circulate a petition to have the body stuffed instead of buried.
=Tell everyone you're from the IRS and you're confiscating the coffin for back-taxes.
=Promise the minister $100.00 if he doesn't keep a straight face while praising the deceased.