One Phone Call4:38 PMOne Phone Call by LostInTheLights
the time the music fell
what only time could tell
hearing raindrops in your voice
scrapbooks torched by anothers choice
lockers and photographs flow
see the laughter you'll never know
painting teacups ment to crush
the ice age of pains rush
tiny stitches only now are seen
only unraveling brings notices gleam
floating in brevity
all the world is quiet just for me
cold bricks on my back
forward? anything but that
The Breaks In Eternitysheets calling with numbing lightsThe Breaks In Eternity by LostInTheLights
pupils dilated by the slick concrete
DancefloorA record is playing but no one can findDancefloor by LostInTheLights
The source of the music, the source of time
So were helpless to listen to song after song
Not knowing the words, not knowing how long
I want to rewind to when the air was your staff
Listen on repeat to the sound of your laugh
Id fast forward to sunsets and warm summer nights
Id skip over the songs that I didnt like
But instead were dancing to beats unknown
Trying to dance in the shoes that weve grown
And all we can do is smile and choose
The people we dance with and the steps that we use
Now I offer my hand to the opening notes
I dont see anyone else in the swirl of long skirts and coats
So lets dance like no ones watching no matter what the song
Because for the dance floor of life theres no one Id rather bring along
the nipple generationthe nipple generation by deuclion
The name of my right nipple is Moo.
I was eleven when he scrapped so hard against concrete he left my chest and became a smear on the sidewalk. Nipples don't peel off like pepperoni from a cold pizza. They come off more like a topping on hot pizza.
The cheese and sauce come along.
Sauce leaked from my skin, poured across my chest and ripped shirt, but I was more concerned with my arm. It won't move.
It won't move. The elbow is pointing toward the sky, the forearm, wrist, hand and fingers are under my back. This position is not typical for an arm -- it's broken, I'm sure it's broken, it's bloody and broken and won't move and my friends are gone.
A group of friends had double dared Pat and me to skate down suicide hill.
Growing up, people do a lot of stupid things. We get drunk, take dares we aren't supposed to and sometimes we come out with great stories and other times we come out with a missing nipple. But usually, we make it out OK.
At the time I didn't feel OK and my friends w