falsetree

Please understand This isn't just goodbye This is I can't stand you This is where the road crashed into the ocean It rises all around me And now we're barely breathing A thousand faces we'll choose to ignore Curse my enemies forever Let's slit our wrists and burn down something beautiful This desperation leaves me overjoyed With fading lights that lead us past the lives that we destroy I listen to you cry A cry for less attention But both my hands are tied And I'm pushed into the deep end I listen to you talk but talk is cheap And my mouth is filled with blood From trying not to speak So search for an excuse

Last night I took the edge And I lay it against The curve of The line of The blue. I pressed hard. Not hard enough to breach but enough To wonder if I would. I nicked myself Two centimetres Away from the blue line. And that small nick Was enough to thrill and scare And draw my glance back many a time To see if anymore had welled up. There was little. My death lies In a coffin under my bed. I dare you I dare you To incite it to come out And draw itself across my proffered skin. The deep scores of my weathered shoulder Show steadfast suffering Coping Will to survive. They were made By the same blade That now represe

Caesar Salad Days. A film by Connie MacAde Walsh. Scene one. A seafront town on a summer evening. We see various shots of the town. We see the exterior of a building. It is a diner. It looks pretty well cared for, if a little faded. A neon sign over the door flashes the word Caesar's in orange and yellow letters at passers-by. Caesar's looks as though it would be full during the day but at this time of the evening it is almost empty. Inside the diner there are two youths, one a tall sly looking boy in a waiter's uniform. The nametag reads, "Hello, my name is Caleb". He is near the door, leaning on the mop he is supposed to be cleaning up