white noise at the end of the world.

I came out of the static
with her knives stuck in my hands
left my old self dead and buried
with a gun stuck in the sand
in my heart you carved your daggers
and the streets ran cold and red
if I don't carry you you'll stagger
is the last thing that you said
hear my foot steps catch and stutter
in the back she held my hand
found the alley that she stranded
and I found him as a friend

on the day she killed november
i hadnt seen her in years
her face it never changes
her heart is changing gears



i hope luke arnold wakes up tomorrow and remembers
that we're starting a hip hop project cause ive already started writing...

monsters in the city

and the streetlights

are out.

we felt the noise around

each corner, begging us

to find it; the walls

were made of braille

and the bricks made

signposts in broken

arrows; the mortar

weak with names

written with bullets.

even the rooftops left us vulnerable.

a message written

in morse code, paint

on our hands where

we told our story.

we never found the way out.