So close your eyes, kiss me goodbye, and sleep.

Sleep. What I should be doing. Also a My Chemical Romance song. Fragment sentences.

But yes, I have listened to The Black Parade more than 20 times since I got it, and if you don't like that, then you don't have to, because I do and who cares what you think. *cough* I'm finished.

I found this earlier in my notebook when I was feeling terrible and am thinking of submitting to the Quill. The title's shitty, but I can almost hear it performed, and there's probably a video being made in my head as you read as well. Screw legitimate punctuation. Anyway.



Self-Intervention

I've got an addiction that's so easy to feed
The more I choke it down, the more I need
It's doing wonders for my psyche but a number on my head
Next thing I know, I'm alone in the bed
Nothing's coming slow and oh-so lethargic
All I need now is for you just to barge in

And tell me that I'm crazy
For wanting all the things I do
The reality check is a major buzz kill
But I'll be drunk again soon

The room is spinning faster to the beat
And I can feel the sweat from the heat
Just one more dozen past the sphincter
For a little more time the took and inked her
People walk by and stare, but I can't make myself care
Because all I hear's your words impared:

Telling me that I'm all mazy
How my philosophy's a sham
This reality is harshing my mellow
Hope you got it all on camera

Why do you have to tell me that it's wrong?
It could wait until a better time
Just wait for a more sober moment
The one I can tell you what's mine ~ to waste

So tell me that I'm crazy
For all the sick, sick things I do
My addiction won't fade, like us, so fast
So how about you convince of something true?



The poetic devices are probably lost in translation. Hell, sometimes I don't even understand about what I'm writing.