Archive for the heartbreak Category

FWFLHSSTWEADWWPOOTGU

Posted in a walk through the deep end of nothingness, does anyone even know what love is?, heartbreak, paranoia, pissed, playing with matches on December 12, 2012 by matt questionmark

Fragile pacts tatter
With shitty farts
From corrupt lard mouths
Land lording sandpaper
Huts hilling over mined land
Sinking slowly
Shafting themselves silly
These sneaky fuckers
With their educated money
And free range tb
Escaping on empty in electric
Dildos buttfucking their
Way to buy a bag of legal
Weed in fucking Colorado
Pacts tatter with no pitter
Or patter of words to you
Or yours with shitty farts
To choke on as you
Get fucked by wiggers
Under your xmas tree.
12/12/12

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Posted in heartbreak, this living is less than loving on November 14, 2011 by matt questionmark

This closet fetish supplements
The quantifying motives
Of sad suppressors
Filling stations scam for remorse
With this wind blowing black after orange pink orgasms in western sky
With this we spill our senseless banter
Onto barstools and sidewalks
Into hondas and empty bottles of high life
We had the high life.
Now gone like fuzzy math mouth breathers
Fucking our freedoms like BOA does to every account in south Detroit.south America.south Africa.San Antonio.
All the pueblos and hobos.
The discos
Burn the retro
Abort the credit
And forget it
You and I will never have our mazes
Or jeffco motels again
Filled with smooches and Spanish gospels
Sermons only meant for temporary times
Serums to destroy our common thought
Leaving us feverish and distraught Separated by liquidated faggotry
We both fight ourselves when we should be fighting for each other

Soft Sky Tonight

Posted in heartbreak, this living is less than loving on June 22, 2011 by matt questionmark

Soft sky
Tonight
Pasteled
Loneliness
Humps my
Arse
Making me
So fucking
Tense
Wishing to
Never see
Your eyes
Ever the
Fuck again
But I
Know I’m
Lying to
Myself
My love for
Those eyes
Goes so
Very deep
Brown eyes
Deep like the
Sicilian shit
You are
And my
Love goes
So very deep
Into the
Asshole
Of this dead
Fucking
Romance
My head
Is so far
Up the ass
Of this
Rotting corpse
Of a romance
That I can almost
See the
Budding of the
Flower that
Was our
Temporary
Fuck lust

Posted in heartbreak, is it really real?, what the hell is wrong with me?, what the hell is wrong with us on January 17, 2011 by matt questionmark

So long these courted hugs Lofty in resonance They now
linger too long on the tongue Shifting in window vision Falling out
of good graces Falling And failing to recognize familiar places
Better days ahead They say…..

love notes

Posted in does anyone even know what love is?, exploding heart, glory in the overlooked, guilt in the serenity, heartbreak on February 15, 2010 by tony saputo

in every word i lost more
shaved off a bit of the ol’ soul
delivered it to you in the rotten paper box
told you of my love and swallowed my pride
held you up to a light and saw no imperfections
defined you as perfect and used you as the looking glass
measured and weighed the world through your beauty
destroyed myself through your hijinks
shook down, scared, along with the glorious wonder
questioned every sentence
analyzed every moment
left empty handed where love used to be
noted you as oblivious
noted you as wanted
noted myself as the shortcoming
noted.

life first, everything after

Posted in guilt in the serenity, heartbreak, is it really real? on February 1, 2010 by tony saputo

it is all the worse things that keep us beating
the wonderful marches and gallant tries
the corrosion of our substance and the over looking of all we could live for

the long good byes
all there was when it started was life
ever since, i have been trying to fight past everything else

it is in all of our funny indulgences where lose what it is that we really love.

the songs in winds

Posted in glory in the overlooked, heartbreak, lost in these purposes and collecting ours on December 2, 2009 by tony saputo

dissolve into rudiments
a force that controls, and a hope that lingers
stuck in the gums
a mouth cancer to be washed out upon whisky, fire, and spit
every chance i had lost

and upon her visage
much like the feather in the breeze
they are so much more beautiful dancing with the wind and her dreams
other than the settled foundation in the grass
perhaps i just learned what they always knew

and upon a callous society
the spiritual hind of an elephant wrapped around the tender fear
it is so easy to be afraid of something real
this is not a chance or trivium
this has been planned

and as us, the leaves, the feather, the loves, the losses travel
in this mother’s cursed twirling breaths
the songs of the bourgeois have been sung since we descended
and as we destroy our loves out loud and sing these melodies
i lie still, holding on, and quietly humming, of an unknown, unheard timbre, till i know it is safe to sing aloud.

if you forget this nightingale love, you never knew it…