Why do you deny thee??
Who told you that you were free?
Fuck your happiness
You should be miserable with anyone but me
I should be your every thought
I should be your only care
I should always be on your lips
And the answer to your every prayer!
From when the sun falls off the ocean
Until the bitch burns no more
You will follow me forever
I’ll run your heart down to its core
You are mine, my possession
These words I speak, You will never question
Yeah, Maybe you should have thought it through
Before you whispered to me ‘I love you’
I’m sure you thought yourself clever
Little did you know that those words meant forever
So as you find yourself within me
I bind you, my love, psychologically
You won’t want to run
No use, you can never hide
But don’t worry, I’ll make you happy
I promise that even after we have died
You took something from me
Cut through my ice heart with a knife
And now, lucky you
You will pay with your life.
Blood is not death or gore,
Blood can be a very sexual, visceral thing.
It is the bringer of life.
Death has nothing to do with blood. Dead bodies are void of it.
I relate to Blood in how feminine it is.
The menstrual cycle, so innately female.
The cycle is powerful, aligned with the moon. It is a sign of a fertile, healthy, mandatory being.
The Blood in “Oxytocin Overdose and “Love Like Razor Blades” reminds me of the uncontrolled, wild, waterfall of menstrual blood. As well as the hormones that drown both male and females when we meet in our most beautiful of dances.
The syringes relate Love to it’s hormonal origins; the chemical reaction, it is a drug.
They are full of oxytocin and dopamine, like the glands, they blast the brain with what she will perceive as true love.
It is chaos
She will fall hard.
She will want more.
We are addicted.
No One Showed Up
This is You: thinking, dreaming, waiting, plotting…but mostly waiting. There are many spots in the picture for more people- it represents an open mind and open heart, waiting. Waiting. Waiting for stimulation, friends, fun, education, advancement. Waiting for the future to uncover itself and for the past to hide its flaws; waiting. Waiting for stagnation to pass. There is loneliness here, a feeling of disconnection to life and people known and once loved. They do not know you. They don’t want what you know is best for you. You are not understood. The Face has a mask: it represents many facets and personalities; different feelings, phases of life. It could be anybody. It is everybody. No one showed up? This is all in your head.
No, I don’t enjoy it
books spread about
pens, markers, scraps run away from home
a cellphone with one active number
half eaten food
one shoe missing it’s partner
a little dog here
I am content