Sunday, 14 September 2014

As liefde te ver gevat word.

Dit is warm en ek dink die hitte vertraag my dink proses.
Het ek regtig gesien wat ek dink ek gesien het?
Of was dit net als n emosionele aanvraag op wat onder my bewus syn le.
My oe was reg en my hart weer verkeerd. 
Hierdie parkie het n trio se toekomste gesteel.

Kom nader sodat ek my pyn aan jou kan af smeer.
Die sagte gras verbeter nie die harde impak van jou woorde nie.
Hul se jy moet mos nooit wit dra na "labour day" nie.
Maar skat jyt nie n keuse nie.
Een manier of ander gaan daar bloed merke wees.

Of joune. 
Of syne.

Maar dis moeilik om iemand seer te maak wat jy oor om gee, of so het ek gedink.
Ek is al talle kere verkeerd bewys deur verlede romanse.
Moenie skree nie engel. Hierdie lem is bedoel om die middel man te verwyder.
Wees net kalm en ek sal al die bewyse van sy bestaan verwyder.

Maar hy het nie veel agter gelos nie, het hy?
Glo my dit maak my seerder as wat dit jou maak, want nou het ek nie meer kompetisie nie.
Maar vee jou trane af skat want dit was als vir jou. 
Kom ons wees eerlik.
As dit nie vir jou was nie dan het hy seker nog n dag gehad om n valse profeet te wees.
Om opgebruikte woorde bymekaar te slaan en talentvol te verskyn.
Kyk, hier le die bewyse dat jy nie jou broodjie aan alby kante gesmeer kan he nie, 6 voet onder die grond.

Net soveel woorde en trane kan keer wat die wurms aan hom sal doen.
Ekt net bewys en my belofte gehou dat ek jou lief het en niemand ooit tussen ons sal kom nie.
Jou histeria maak sake nie beter vir ons 48uur planne nie, so aanvaar hierdie tou. 
Dis om jou vas te hou terwyl ek die man wees en alle sake hanteer. 
Want geen vrou is gelukkig om net by die huis alleen te sit nie.

Ek gaan die wereld vir jou gee en meer. 
Doen net asb wat ek se.
Ek sal alle beeld materiaal van jou gedagtes af verwyder sodat ons op n nuwe bladsy kan begin.
Dwelms, wat n wonder werk. 
Wat n teken van bo terwyl die lyk vrot van onder.
Engel, eks nie jamer nie maar jy kan my vergewe as jy wil?
Hierdie is die top punt van liefde. 
Glo dit of nie.

God Only Borrows.

It's in bad taste to give a gift and to take it away. 
Yet God does this everyday. 
I'm not saying that I wanted you dear... 
I'm just saying that you could've stayed.

I warned you from the start what to expect. 
But a warning is meaningless when it falls on death's ears. 
I'm not the black plague. 
But every living thing I touch will eventually die some day.

That's why I hate to love you for making promises of forever. 
Yet I can't run away from you, and believe me, I've tried. 
I’m like a dog chasing a car. 
Dying to end up under your tyres.

Just wishing that I could go to bed with a knife taped to my hand. 
And hopefully when I wake up and rub my eyes in the morning I wont be seeing you again.

Well you failed me. 
And I take failure with a pinch of salt, and pretty soon ill be drifting in an ocean. 
Stranded, Thirsty and lonesome. 
Nothing like a shot of vodka to make me sink back into the depths of our love down below.

All for you.

Every second we take and make our own were creating something beautiful, like a love poem. 
Something written by the hand of Shakespeare’s lifeless corpse. 
We know what to expect from life but somehow we still get caught.
We get caught out by sudden turns of events.
And now the silver lining is at times my only defense.
This road seems to go on forever but it never goes anywhere, because that someone special was never there. 

Panic attacks without a constitution deliver a verdict of guilty on own terms. 
But no one ever reads those terms so we agree to accept people as fucked up as they are and appear shocked when their true colors come out. 
But since the music is playing, we can't object to the way our feet tap on this drink-spilt-floor where thousands of broken relationships were born on. And clearly my dear, we are no exception.

Now there are three stories all happening in a row. 
The story of me, 
the story of you and the third story of this buildings ledge I’m standing on.
I couldn't have asked for a better setting.
The perfect weather for my dying mood and the cheapest wine, my staple food.

Monday, 28 July 2014

Oe oop.

Oe oop.
Oe toe.
Rol om.
Rol terug.
Herhaal die proses tot die oggend son sy kop uit steek.

Staan op.
Staan sterk.
Gemoed swak.
Hart werk.
Gaan terug bed toe om weg te kruip van die wereld af.

Foon in hand.
Foon op tafel.
Geen oproepe.
Geen boodskappe.
Sy wil eensweer nie met my praat nie.

Skoene aan.
Skoen veters vas.
Begin kar.
Straat af.
Ek gaan maar net doen wat ek die beste doen.
Geld uit.
Deur die strate.
Bier in hand.
Probeer weer van my probleme weg hardloop.

Jaag na haar toe.
Kind in pad.
Swaai uit.
Teen n boom vas
Le en ruk ruk terwyl die bloed van my wonde drip drip.

Mense gil.
Kan nie beweeg.
Sirene skree
Te veel seer.
Ek lieg en se dat ek nie dood wil gaan nie. 

Terwyl die son oor alles uitkyk
Probeer hulle my red.
Engele roep.
Oe oop.
Oe toe.

The Wretched.

The reasons start as soon as the feeling kicks in.
This is over and it will never be the same again.
Your mouth made me fall in and out of love with you.
Now I’m falling in and out of conscientiousness too.
This romantic tragedy drove me to the liquor store.
It dropped me off there and even borrowed me some money.
It waited outside while I flirted with the clerk who was laying up 2 bottles of whiskey.
It then drove me to the park. 
My favorite spot in the world to go on about how unfair life is and to sit and watch people live their lives without me having any impact on them. 
I could be dead and they wouldn't even notice.
It’s the same stupid cliche.
Boy loves girl, girl loves everybody else.
Spare me the body count you've got under your belt.
And I’ll spare you this letter of the feelings I felt.
Let’s go back to the start where you said it was only you and me.
Before you added many more branches to the lover tree.
Whenever a problem arose you were quick to hit the door.
Trying to ignore the problem doesn't make it go away.
I found that out the hard way.
Like paper clips we get attached to our death certificates.
And get lost in the crevices of time and get forgotten and replaced.
Like we’re all just disposable.
The good make way for the bad through negligence.
The innocent make way for the corrupt through loneliness.
Together they make a void where disposable lost souls just keep drifting around, and this is where I met you.

Saturday, 7 June 2014

Dead Lover Society.

Like claws suspended by string and beads
You hang from my neck and I wear you proud
You deadly creature you. You sign of strength.
I had to hunt you down.
I had to prove a point that I am an alpha male and that I take what I want.
And I wanted you. And only you.
But that’s what I wanted and now I want your head against the wall.
Smiling or with a cigarette hanging from your lips.
Pray for the prey.
I for an eye.
It took 1 shot. And it changed us both. You have been weakened by an always lingering complex that has now found a permanent home in you.
I have been strengthened by you begging me to take you back.
How superior can a man feel?
Oh how an ego can grow and be bold.
But you have always been a dangerous creature. And me humiliating you in public only strengthened the danger in your eyes.
I found that out the hard way when you hid in my back seat and strangled me with love.
Whispering sweet everything’s in my ear while I gasped for air and tried to grab hold of anything to make you stop.
Your ears or your hands or your hair.
This was it. This was done.
 My ego and arrogance has become the death of me.
My last breath came along with a kiss on the cheek and the wisest words that I have ever heard.

”There will always be people who will miss you once you're gone, but there will also always be people who never knew you existed in the first place.”

To the one.

You never truly know what you have until it gets taken away from you.
She is every word I put to paper and every thought that ends with a full stop.
She deserves the best and the best was never close to me.
26 years of figuring out where I belong and what to achieve just to sit here 7 years behind the rest.
My heart is hers but what can she do with such a disposable thing?
Full of words and promises but lacking in actions and tangible love and feelings.
I’m sitting here as a broken man once again.
Always hoped to be the one that could save you from yourself.
To be there when the pillars cave in to keep this rickety bridge from collapsing .
But I never was there.
I was too caught up in the trivialities of my own life to stand back
And realize that this was the time you needed me most.
How could I ever move on from the person that could have saved me from me?
But the problem was that she needed saving first and I was the furthest thing away from being a hero.
I stood back and looked at my own life without making a move.
Watching her drifting further and further away,
I lie awake at night wondering what could have been.
And all that comes to mind, even though I dislike this phrase immensely, is that she is all I ever wanted and more.
But it takes more than just saying that to prove it.
I am a miserable person.
And this is all brought on by my own actions.
Every soft short finger on my hand represents a chance I had to take you and make you fall in love with me.
Even though the disappointment of losing someone who gave me a reason to live free has taken the wind out of my sails.
I will not ever lie and say that I did not see this boat sinking.
No matter how hard I try, I will never amount to shit.
Even less to amount to being someones lover.
I asked for one more chance three chances ago.
I asked to spend time with you, and you made the right choice to say no.
Cut the cancerous limb before it spreads further to every single room in your heart.
Because all four rooms in my heart are preoccupied by the furniture we could've picked out together.
Because no matter what you ever say, I will never give up on you or move on. No matter how masochistic or desperate that might seem.
You are the reason I sit up at night and want to end it all but at the same time never want to give up.
For as long as I live, I will never give up on you.
I have missed one chance at happiness. I do not want to miss it again.
I will never settle for anyone less.
I am not asking you to wait until I sort my miserable life out.
I am just asking you to live.
Be alive.
Breathe heavily.
So that I can hopefully come along and take those breaths away.
I love you with my whole existence.
I never showed it.
I never proved it.
I am nothing more than a stranger to love.
But this stranger loves you so much.
You exist but you are also missing in action in my life.
Yet you are never missing a beat. Never giving an inch.

Aim For The Head.

I dreamt I was born in the back of a limo my parents were taking to the prom.
Even though I was just a new born I remember the bloody suit of my dad and the bloody mess that was my mom.
Then they had to get married against their will.
For I was to blame for this ceremony held on the lonely hill.

But my mom took off before walking down the isle.
My dad was in tears and I in denial.
Fast forward to my third birthday where my dad and I went to the zoo.
I thought everything was going to be okay between me and you.

We were staring at the male lions killing their young.
My dad said he'd be right back and left his only son.
After crying and yelling and kicking and screaming.
My dad never returned and I was grieving.

Eventually I got adopted by a couple of newly weds who couldn't start a family.
But the damage was done no matter how much they loved me.
God hated me, and I would show the careless boy and the whore of a girl.
what kind of bloody mess they brought into this world.

I found my adopted fathers gun and went through the phonebook.
And not used to my luck, I found their adresses and fled with the gun I took.
I stood in front of my dad as a small little boy.
Screaming at him for the small little boy he destroyed.

I took out the gun and aimed for his head.
Because I was smart enough to know that his heart was already dead.
I pulled the trigger and fell to the floor.
I sat there in a pool of blood and splinters from the door.

I fled from the house and headed to my moms place,
Just to discover her at the dinner table with three extra plates.
She started her own family and looked unnaturally happy.
Unlike the few months she spent nursing me.

And the kids looked just like me and the father looked like a good man.
So how could I take from the children what I never had.
So I took out the gun and aimed for my head.
Because I was smart enough to know that my heart was already dead.

I pulled the trigger and fell to the floor.
My mom rushed outside and started crying like the day I was born.
The horror and terror I could have sown.
would be nothing compared to the sorrow that I've known.

Vals Hoop.

Ek le in my bed en wonder hoekom, het alles verkeerd geloop. Het ek iets verkeerd gedoen, Of was dit maar net vals hoop. Ek dink terug aan wat ek kon doen, om alles verder te vat. Maar nou gee ek myself die skuld want my gevoelens was in die pad.

Ek skree op na die hemel daar bo, en vra hoekom is ek lief vir jou. Ek wou vir jou perfek wees, maar ek het my eie graf gegrou. Ek was verlief op jou oë, jou glimlag en jou gees. Maar na alles wat ons gehad het, was hierdie my grootste vrees.

Ek het nie net vir jou, maar ek het ook n vriendskap verloor. Dis hoekom dit so lank vat om al die pyn weg te smoor. Ek sou enige iets vir jou doen, want ek het oor jou om gegee. Nou probeer ek my bes, om al die gevoelens weg te vee.

En nou staan ek hier alleen, in hierdie oorbevolkte land. Net met jou in my gedagtes, en met n drink in my hand. Daar is niks wat ek oor spuit is nie want ek sou alles weer doen. Van die eerste ontmoeting, tot die laaste soen

Tuesday, 29 April 2014

To my future valentine.

Nobody said that romance wasn't for the faint of heart.
Or that it's so damn hard to breathe while we're far apart.
And my childish ways and insecurities keep showing up.
Yet I still trust you to take good care of my fragile heart.

And I know I'm not perfect, and I know I sometimes fail.
But somehow you believe in me and keep me going when I am trail.
And I will give you the world darling, to show you that I care.
We are living proof that love and life can be fair.

We haven't been through a lot yet and we still have a lot to go through.
But I don't mind 'cause it will be worth it in the end.
One day on our wedding night we will sit and laugh about all the dumb and stupid fights.
Babe, now I can't imagine my life without you.

The memories we're making now are the stories we will someday tell.
Our kids will sit and listen and think it's all just a fairytale.
And when we grow old and we're almost at the end.
I will say that I love you and that you were always the greatest wife and my closest friend.

Taken away, way too early.

I wish I could say this without a second of doubt or a feeling of repent. But I’m witnessing something in the making. The making of something that could finish life as we know it on this God forsaken planet. It might not be true. But we've been bending the truth for ages to suit our endless needs. We just need something or someone to believe in. And I’m just a stepping stone for the rest of you to something bigger. Bigger than what we could grasp or imagine. If God could, he would throw down a glance and say this was you’re purpose all along. The search of self and the feeling of being a nobody is finally over. 'Cause it aint death if you’re life never really got started. And I would look up with a smirk and ask with hope, if you’re up there waiting for me. And just like only he can, he would glance down at my feet and say no. For I am a lost soul and a betrayer. Just like a crippled promise i would sit and wait for the feeling to come back only to learn the ugly truth. And I will have to choose. And I will stand up and say "I give my life, so that you can finally feel alive". Because the mind needs what the heart wants. And all I ever wanted was to get you off your knees.

Monday, 14 April 2014

Die wereld deur my oe.

Ek vind stilte in geraas.
Ek vind vrede in geweld.
Ek vind liefde in haat.
Ek sien n skelm in elke held.
Ek vind simpatie in apatie.
Ek vind niks in alles.
Ek kry geluk in depressie.
Ek vind alles normaal as dit eintlik mal is.
Ek sien goed in die sleg.
Ek sien lewe in die dood.
Ek voel veilig as ek vir my lewe veg.
Ek hoor suiwer taal in elke vloek woord.
Ek sien wit in swart. Ek voel vol as ek honger is.
Ek vind net krag in my swak hart.
Ek voel nugter as ek eintlik dronk is.
Ek sien myself in iemand anders.
Ek kry vreemdelinge in my eie familie.
Ek voel tuis saam met buitelanders.
Ek sien krake in elke fondasie.
Ek voel nogsteeds siek al is ek gesond.
Ek twyfel al is ek seker.
Ek het n storie vir elke wond.
Ek word swakker al word ek beter.
Ek voel gevind al is ek verlore.
Ek sien die hel in die hemel.
Ek sien n begrafnis na elke geboorte.
 Ek vind te min in te veel.
Ek sien n half leë glas in n wereld wat half vol is.
Ek voel skuldig al het ek niks verkeerd gedoen nie.
Ek sien n doel elke keer as ek een mis.
Ek het vryheid in n tronk van oppressie.
Ek kry skaam vir wat ek op trots moet wees.
Ek kom laaste al is ek eerste.
Ek skree wolf elke keer as ek God moet skree.
Ek vind n behoefte in elke begeerte.
Ek sien n realiteit in drome.
Ek het baie al het ek min.
Eks verkeerd al gebruik ek die regte woorde.

Maar met musiek maak alles sin.

We are the worst of our kind.

Things can get out of hand pretty quickly if you plan to drink all your sorrows away. So I'm treating this as the first sign of decomposition. Give it a week or 2 and this "thing" will have become one with the earth. I'm heading towards another blackout where my inner party animal lies dormant from the 9 to 5 slavery until I break away from myself. I'll be crawling on hands and knees because a leopard never changes it's spots. But why was it so easy for you to change without a warning? Loving you was easy. Getting you to love me back was the hard part. So let's order another round of shooters and watch my apathy grow, shot by boring shot. While my friends and ex's get awoken in the early hours of the morning by drunken texts and phone calls. My friends will fall in line with me and share my glorious grief of losing you. So you've got the wrong kind of business here if you think that my whole world would stand still for a moment in time as soon as you walk into it. Oh lord, this party is getting stiffer by the minute because of you. It is a great fear of ours to die alone but it is an even greater fear of ours to become our parents and we've put up with this for far too long so let's break out every drug known to man and watch you walk away in the early morning street lights in disgust while we have the time of our night lives. We're all just broken goods in search of a fix. We live for moments like these. We live.

Friday, 28 March 2014

Knuckle deep.

Oh how the mighty keep falling,
They said that it was the end of the world but it turns out that it was only the end of us. I forget things because my brain is already dead. It just doesn’t know it yet. And when you’re at the top there is only one place left to go. And even though I strapped myself in for this crazy ride, I’m still feeling dizzy from this downward spiral. I’m the victim to the fierce natural tones of a lustful negotiation. I’m struggling and for a lack of a better word, I’m slaving over this courtship to insure I’m worth the effort.
Your body is a gun and my finger is on the trigger.
But you say you love me and only me. But I bet you say that to all the guys who were knuckle deep in love with you. Just throw all your empty promises in a well and make a wish upon all the times you got carpet burns while I drown and send a collie to get help. You say you’re different from the last but you’re just the same as the first.
I’ve made some pretty bad mistakes, but you were the prettiest one. And you’re the type of mistake I make over and over again but never learn from.
Self-loathing, self-desctructive, self-pity, self-indulgence. It seems as though everything always revolves around me. But those same words I use to describe you. Let my last words be I dare you. Let my trigger finger itch. Just take what you want and me down with you because few things can set me free like a gunshot to the head and the smell of you on my sheets.

Thursday, 27 March 2014

Pluk die vrugte van die bome wat jy plant.

Ek is trots op waar vandaan ek kom maar ek haat die gedagte van waar ek op pad is.
Vreemd, hoe die verlede altyd beter as die toekoms lyk.
Ek't myself verlaat in n poel van sinlose verhoudings en vriendskappe. Maar ek leef daarvoor. Ek kan vir jare nog aangaan sonder n plan. Want wie kort n hart as jy geld het? Wie kort n droom as dit al waar geword het maar jou nie dieselfde satisfaksie gegee het nie?
Eks onvernietigbaar.
Maar verniet as jy my op die regte stadium van self vernietiging vind.

Kry n kamer.

Maak seker dis by n goedkoop hotel waar meeste mans se harte in gegee het. Plaas 2 munte op hul oe en groet hulle dieselfde manier wat jy jou selfwerd gegroet het. Met min emosie en goeie-gewrig-aksie.

Hierdie is nie jou eerste keer nie is dit?

Ek gooi n handoek in om te se eks uit. My hart raak kouer met elke bier wat ek sluk.
Hierdie is nie n verskoning nie.
Ek kan dit net nie meer vat om al my geheue van goeie aande aan jou te verloor nie.
As jy my regtig lief het dan sal jy my vuil gedagtes agter in die jaard begrawe en dan n boom bo hulle plant. n Boom waar al ons vriende hang en vir ons wag om die toue van angs en depressie te knip met ons skerp tonge.
Ons is jong atome, vol energie wat wag vir n kans om hierdie wereld plat te vee.
Ons stembande is ons snare en ons harte ons kitare.

Ek kan sien wat jy bedoel.

 Jy het nie n gaping om te wys wat jy rerig kan offer nie. Hierdie stad is alles behalwe n plek om in groot te word.
Dis n verhoog.
Waar ons uit gestal word vir die wereld om te sien.
Een diep pit wat elke hoop en droom wat ons het verorber. Ons is karakters sonder n dialoog wat woorde bymekaar string soos n vervelige epiloog.

Maar byt asseblief net vas.

Want daai dose gaan nie weet wat hulle tref totdat jy opdaag en die wereld vertel van iets wat ons leiers in polisiekar nooit kon se nie.

Home is where the bars are.

I can feel my world getting smaller.
I can feel the walls caving in.
I can hear the past catching up.
I can feel their presence within.

I can see what I am missing.
I can see where I want to be.
I can’t hide the fact that I’m lying
When I say that I am happy.

I can’t say where I will end up.
Or give a reason why I should stay.
It isn’t because of love.
For you no longer whisper my name.

I can feel my world getting darker.
I can see the walls turning grey.
Life will only get harder
Once my demons come out to play.

Monday, 17 March 2014

Till death do us. Part 1.

Based on a friend I lost to drunk driving. How we lived without a care in the world. Everything was just 1 big party and we were unstoppable. One day I will join him in hell and we will have the time of our afterlives.

Just like the days of yester-year, I miss the childish nature of a joke gone wrong. We were the kings in a town littered with alcoholics. Elvis would’ve been proud. We know we have to grow up sometime, but how can it be done when there’s a city full of wet roads and whole female hearts to punch our tickets in. Everybody has got a story to tell and a chance to yell at the people who are lying and the people trying to keep us away from feeling drunk and happy. Take another drink for the road and test if the handbrakes are working. If not then it was surely worth a try. Just like our fallen comrades next to the road we will be forgotten by dead flowers and head on collisions. But come and pay your regards by drowning in gin and join us while we cross the river Styx. We erect a party wherever we go and it never gets old. Hell better stock up on drugs and hard liquor, for eternity we will burn the midnight oil and toast to the good old days and the friends yet to join this VIP only gathering. Where we shall go down on history and even maybe Monroe.

Uitweg Romantiek.

Soos gelowiges ry ons in n stoet bar toe waar ons die dood van ons probleme en gedagtes seevier.

Die enigste ding wat ek vrees is die nagevolge van ons aksies, maar nie vanaand nie.

Vanaand sleep ons die aasvoels huis toe.

Numeries waardes word verkrag deur shots wat met min moeite die deur van potensiaal toe maak.

Ek was nooit die tipe mens wat n half lee glas gehad het, wat nie alkohol bevat het.

N drank asem metafoor sal dit kan bevestig.

Maar wat het julle verwag?

Dis n generiese syn wat deur die lug golwe sny.

Eks seker dis n skok vir jou hart maar moet nie laat dit jou ritme af gooi nie.

Ek gun jou n kans om n kans te vat.

Om my hand te vat en my na jou kar toe te lei.

Jy het n stippel lyn oor jou pols en jy wag vir my om hom te kruis.

Die weerlig skitter en flikker.

Die drank, al hoe witter hoe bitter.

Vat n kans op my op die dans baan.

En groet die duiwels wat langs die bar staan.

Met twee vingers gaan ek jou opbring soos al my drank.

Ek wens ek’t sleg gevoel daaroor.

Maar tog staan jy daar met jou merke wat skree vir simpatie.

Maar wat is simpatie sonder dronk verdriet?

Gaan eerder vanaand op jou kniee en dank wie okal jy wil, vir wat okal jy het, in n laaste poging om jou lewe te red.

Wel as ek self moet brand dan weet die here dat  ek dit ordentlik sal doen.

As ek moet val dan weet jesus dat ek net vir jou sal val.

En as ek hemel toe gaan dan weet die duiwel alleen hoe ek dit reg gekry het.

Die weerlig skitter en flikker.

Die drank, al hoe witter hoe bitter.

Vat n kans op my op die dans baan.

En groet die duiwels wat langs die bar staan.

Elke masker wat ek dra het n identiteit, tog staan ek hier sonder een.

Met twee vingers gaan wie okal ek is jou opbring soos al my drank.

Sunday, 16 March 2014

New Age Bloody Mary.

Just something I wrote after an evening in Hatfield square and seeing the young girls and how some of them dress and then had the thought of "if Jack The Ripper were alive today, what fun he would have." so this is just a concept piece on what a modern day Jack the Ripper would think. The line "That tattoo on her lower back is the watermark of the promiscuous" is taken from a quote by the character Hank Moody from the series Californication.

Welcome to the collapse.
 Self-medication is the best remedy in this situation.
Approved by the team who brought you the serial killer gene.
Dim the lights and cue the music. I've dusted myself off and I've shined my shoes. I've pressed my tux and freshened up. Now I'm rolling in stride with a new found arrogance. Dead man walking. Dead man walking. That's what is said when I hear the girls talking.
I am the devil's gift to woman and they can't wait to unwrap me.
Believe the hype(rbole).
No one can abuse me like me. I truly believe that the whole world goes dark when I close my eyes and that your last breath can bring it light again. I've signed my soul over to whoever receives this letter, from hell with love.
Nothing can touch me except the law and I wouldn't want it any other way. I'm at every beck and call for a media frenzy. She asked for it your honor. Just like the rest. That tattoo on her lower back is the watermark of the promiscuous. Her short skirt was screaming out for murder. It was like the 4th of July with people in the streets and stars in her eyes. 17 years of searching for love. 17 minutes of experiencing it.
I'm guilty.
There, I admit it.
I've got blood on my hands and whiskey in my veins. If I could do it again I would and I'd savor every loveless moment. They don’t call me the ripper for nothing Jack.
Life is beautiful through the eyes of the born. It's the born again that ruin it.