Thursday, October 29, 2009

I am young and I am hungry.

I want cake. Some cunt. Some cock.

I want Hemingway in fishnet stockings. I want your heartbeat between my thighs. I want Debussy on rewind. I want my cat to like me. I want you in ropes on my bedroom floor. I want ghosts to greet me. I want an airport. I want whatever Lady Macbeth was on.

I think it was death.

I want static on my skin. I want acid in the evening. I want acid in the morning. I want my portrait on a highway. I want to bite your blood. I want god to stop being such a control freak. I want thorns in his tea. I want screams against my wall. I want to tell Crispin Glover that he freaks me out. Then I want to slap him. I want to tame the next door neighbour. I want piano in my ears. I want pythons in your bed. I want to know what it felt like being thirteen and having Gauguin fuck me on the floor of my father’s grass hut. I want a piece of flat land with storm clouds above. I want a crow on my shoulder. I want your brain in a tin. I want the Palestinians to win.

god, I want this song to forever fuck my brain.