Crimson Prose

Dead End Job.
Artist aka Always broke.
most days I hate my enemies and i love my friends. sometimes i love my enemies
and i hate my friends. But i always both hate and love myself. i guess thats just how the world works. (sigh)

i really need to vent

i need this job 

so i’ll curb my tongue

and fantasize about quitting

i’m tired of constantly being put down

about wondering what to do next

with the constant sense of imminent termination

without knowing how far to extend my neck

the customers tell me jokes i’ve heard a thousand times

about popcorn and bullshit i hate

and then they guffaw and say with a smile

the amount of fucking bags that they ate

and its not just employees that assume that i’m dense

its customers too and i hate it

they smile and wave as they hold hands over phones

and whisper what a fucking idiot

he has no hope

what a worthless pile he is

maybe he should just kill himself

because he couldn’t help me find some miniscule bolts

and some socks 

well you know what 

maybe i fucking should

because you told me so

you asshat


farmer sack of shit

i find it difficult to keep my chin up 

to find myself beautiful

when every weekend

every conversation takes its toll

i’ll shut my doors you shut your mouth

i’ll drink in the evenings and you wont tell me

who to be based on 

with who you want to be seen with

when you become so upset

that one loves the other

and i swallow the drugs to feel 

like i belong

don’t come talking to me like you think you understand.

you took a vicadin an then a tylenol

so what misspelling followed closely by true emotion

you don’t deserve to like a band if you don’t explore what really happens

how many days




how many days 

must we spend 

tired and lonely 

no second wind with sun sets

no great revival i won’t repent

for crimes i won’t regret

you don’t command me

if isolation ends

then i will open myself again

this heart of stone once broken

will mend and i can see at last when all life will end

this passing phase

a common phrase

without love no life until the end of days

murder messiah, savior sadist

if i were to write you love songs in the dark

the words would fade into the night 

never to be heard from, never to be seen again

and i fear that among the thousand yearning shouts

i will not stand out among the thousand bleeding hearts

i will be forced to drown

they’ve stained their sleeves with christenings 

like ducks all in a row

they all will die calm, in their sleep 

not such a bad way to go

baptismal chants these strung out kids

submerged in the blood of christ

i hate you for my namesake

i hate you for my life

so if you care to point the finger for a moment

just point it at yourself

i never asked for any of this so give your gift to someone else

all i’ve seen for mercy is when you kill the ones i loved

i let you win too many times

but this time i’ve had enough

i know

i know

that i will go to hell

but if that means i gain justice from the unjust

upon the murderer of my kin

then i will swear a hundred oaths

and live in darkness

in sin

REBLOG if your icon is actually you.

(via dirty-fancyy)

i’m tired of not being taken seriously

something i’ve noticed as of late….

no one wants to hangout unless there’s threats of suicide

and no one wants to see you unless

they can drink all of your booze

take all your drugs

smoke all your cigs

take all your money

and fucking leave you alone

until you re-up on all the shit they can just take away again.

i don’t hate women to the degree of killing them 

and hiding the bodies

i don’t hate women so that i can beat them around

like it was my hobby

i hate the stereotype that self sustains itself

so now you’ll know that when i call you a dumb bitch

its on a more personal level than a chauvinist pig’s calling card

and that’s how you’ll know that i’m telling the truth

in fact i don’t really hate women at all

i despise the idea. 

and that’s something you can take to the bank

am i a lyricist yet?

god i hope so…..

i can just never let go

and while the black devours
where we have made our home
without destruction there can be no life
no plot exists to spare us from the clutches of death
this time i am granted only a slight reprieve
i will throw back the veil and snatch you from 
heaven’s open arms
i swore to hell no one could take you away
a deal’s a deal so with me you will stay
until the loneliness is too much to bear and 
i join you at the gates 
i swore to hell no one could take you away
and by the wrath of a broken heart
i will. make. you. stay.