First Draft Lyric Assignment


Sensation overwhelms me,

Crawling ants bite creating bumps over my legs, arms, and neck,

My eyes close without permission,

There is a cathedral in my head,

My back jaw locked open with pillars,

Sound consumes me.

I am entirely alone and unique,

Embraced in the most intimate of hugs,

Bodies entwined like twins in the womb.

My body is tense,

My mind is open,

Sound pouring out of the top of my head,

The music takes grip of me,

I am unable to stop like water gushing over the Niagara Falls,

Spitting up over rocks,


My voice dances around the room,

Waltzing with the violins,

Laughing with the thirty voices who have melded into one,

It ends together, all at once,

My flesh is exhausted,

The magic in me only just beginning to feast,

Is more alive than ever.

A Change of Seasons

Children yearn for the brisk chill of winter on their face,

Waiting for the giant dandruff snowflakes to fall,

Eager for the paint pot to tip and cover the world in white.

Quickly the love turns to resentment,

The cold we loved now aches in our bones,

Ice on the roads we would have slid and played on frightens us.

We waited eagerly for the first sprouts of spring,

Now all we see are weeds,

Imperfections on our carefully bland lawns.

Spring is for cutting down trees,

improving real-estate value.

We would bask in the magic of summer nights,

Dense with the thick warm air of bonfires,

Our skin felt naked and free from the stiff fabric of cool air,

Only now we grow stern with the muggy warmth, unable to breath,

We lock ourselves in houses full of deceptive cold.

Fall was a time of colour,

collecting fallen leaves,

buying new crisp school supplies,

New beginnings.

Now the beauty of the leaves is lost,

Bagged away like dead bodies,

Unwanted and thrown away to rot,

Beauty loses its fresh tight face, just as we do,

blowing away like an old withered balloon.


My anger is not a fire,

It does not slowly consume,

My temper is an ocean.

It is heavy water locked up as a prisoner in a damn,

Small trickles leak out,

Barely noticed,

Quickly patched.

A snarl rises in me,

The damn is broken,

An earthquake awakens a tsunami,

The water does not burn,

It rages.

Suffocating, smothering, overtaking anyone in its path,

It has no limits.

Smashing houses, breaking bones,

It settles over the rooftops of its victim’s houses.

The water murky with wasted lives,

Serenely dangerous,

Calm again.

My First Love

I sit,

In a million places at once,

Huddles in the darkest cloak of organza,

Alone on the streets a young girl in the warmth of night.

My cheeks are dry of emotion,

Eyes seeing only shadows of the world,

Roll into my skull turning a piercing gaze internally.

Death is not lurking behind me,

She holds my hand as we walk.

She is my first love.

We stay up all night together,

Her first kiss along the soft flesh of my arms,

Red lipstick staining my corpse like skin.

No one noticed how her love consumed me,

Dark and twisting,

Safe and beautiful.

My body shook when she let go of my hand,

I was terrified without her.

I don’t see her anymore,

Though sometimes I hear her beautifully tempting voice,

I miss her piercing kisses on my skin,

I yearn to see her again, to hold her close.

You never forget your first love.


We are the same.

Our movements pull at the other like the moon and tide,

When torn apart I am an addict,

Falling to the ground limp and consumed by grief,

Experiencing cold sweats and panic from withdrawal,

When reunited it is the cool syringe of ecstasy,

Nervous excitement buzzing through my veins,

We crash together,

Feeling complete,

Our skin is warm,

Sizzling to the bone in recognition,

We cling in desperation to be closer,

Clawing together for comfort,

Becoming complete again.


I hold it in my mouth in wonderment,

A piercingly cold burst of flavour,

It is pure and clean,

Sweet and light,

Subtle at first and then growing,

It makes my mouth water,

I savour the tingle of excitement,

It slowly melts,

Oozing over my tongue,

Sliding down my throat,

I take another small spoonful of the sticky mango gelato.

The stranger

I stare at a stranger.

My eyes dart around slurping up their features,

I know them intimately but their face is foreign,

It is like a word is itching on my tongue,

I notice the dark purple bruising around the eyes,

This does not surprise me,

I spot red pimples on their face,

My fingers itch to pick at them,

The small white spots littering their forehead like paint splatters make me laugh,

My eyes are drawn to the middle of their face,

A nose.

Too large,

Too angular,

It makes me grimace as I watch the nostrils flare,

You greet the stranger,

In the mirror.

Catching Some Zzz’s

I stare at the ceiling,

Sitting in the throat of darkness,

My mind is tense and awake as the world sleeps,

I am playing hide ’n’ go seek with rest,

Unable to find where it hides,

I close my eyes,

Looking to power off my brain,

Instead I have opened the world of thought,

I fall into my own mind,

It is vast, curious and stimulating.

Quickly I am loose running down a street of memory,

I find new plants of thought growing.

Hours pass before I return from my vacation,

Exhausted and ready for rest I see sleep within reach,

My arm whips out fast and precise,

I catch sleep in my fist and devour it.

Drifting into nothing.

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