Enough

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Glassjaw - Siberian Kiss
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Give me back my pictures of me.
Me, you, and him that makes three.
It figures the wheezing will measure your rate of depress
and I hope that you know.

Like a bitch in heat I hope she know.
So put another coin in and turn the crank until the frames
cease to move and the movie turns into a photo,
a photo the size of a kiss I hope she knows.

Staring at a Parisian sex flick where the characters don't meet,
the characters don't speak, and the characters are
like mirrors facing mirrors:
space always expanding.

So put another penny in and turn the crank until the frames
cease to move and the movie turns into a photo,
a photo the size of a kiss I hope she knows.

A hiccup in paradise I keep you jealously to myself,
in a photo the size of a kiss,
a kiss in the shape of a bullet.

On phone lines and letterhead, I'm dying about.
I've watched you whore yourself out for one more thing.
There's always one more thing.
If I can't have you know one will.
Pushing a lover to love another.
Are you turned on?
I keep you jealously to myself.

I'm done here. This wouldn't be the first time, that I have had to move, to avoid criticism for writing whatever I feel. So, dearly, I hope your corpse is found before nightfall. I may supply the link here, but don't count on it. I just want to write, without holding back anymore, and just looking through older entries, I've definitely been holding back.

So that's it. Enjoy the silence. By the way, I am apparently a bastard. Refer to the song for more details.