It’s Only Pain – Lyrics

There’s a joy over there
That I must constrain
There’s a happy memory
From which I must refrain

There is sex and exaltation
Love and erotic liberation
But for me it’s only pain
For me it’s only pain


When you shut me down
When you fell into the tar pit
When you forgot I was still alive
When you rolled me up in that carpet

I was still dwelling in your heat
I still was feeling pretty sweet
But now I’m numbing up my brain
Because for me it’s only pain

@DarkDee 2017


Safe Keeping – lyrics

Safe Keeping


I got love for you, babe
but that level ten love is killing me

I got love for you, babe
but that love is like electricity

don’t wanna burn so hard,
don’t wanna blow my battery

so I’m dialing down to three
for safe keeping.

And I wanna tell ya
My love is solid gold, babe
It’s quantum physics, it’s the third rail alive
Touch me and all your rivers will flow, babe
like molten lava, but you gotta be a rock
if you want to survive.

And I gotta be a rock, if I want to survive.

So, I got love for you, babe
But the anticipation is killing me

Yeah, I got love for you, babe
and I will bide my time effectively

don’t wanna burn so hard,
don’t wanna blow my battery

so I’m dialing down to three
for safe keeping.

And I wanna tell ya
My love is solid gold, babe
It’s quantum physics, it’s the third rail alive
Touch me and all your rivers will flow
like molten lava, but you gotta be a rock
if you want to survive.

And I gotta be a rock, if I want to survive.

@DarkDee 2017

I No Longer Scream

You can test for the depth of my fat
With your sharpest dagger available
Neither one of us will know when you hit bone
Because I no longer scream
I no longer scream

You can watch my fingerskin stick
To the cold metal of whatever

If I touch
I rip
My smile a riot
But I no longer scream
I no longer scream

Vox frozen
Soul numbed whole
No worries here
I’m the guinea pig standard
But I no longer scream
I no longer scream

I’m a crash test dummy
Built for endurance
Wired for sound
I’m a pin cushion for
wannabe phlebotomists

But silence only
Screeching electric rawness
I no longer scream
I no longer scream

Go for the kill
Or leave me half measured
Nothing here even resembles life
I am numb
And insane now
Afraid of the sound I can’t make
Afraid of the screams I can’t hear

I no longer scream
I no longer scream


The First Rule of Life Club

You gotta feel it to heal it.

That’s how you live a non-repressed life. And I am a non-repressed person. It’s so instinctive to me to get to the heart of it and rip it out for what it’s worth. Not more, not less.

Not everyone wants to or can live without repression…it’s hard, because it can offend, but mostly, it’s about selfish self confrontation, realizing the moment is at hand for transformation and just saying, “I’m going to do this.” And you become.

And whatever I become – it has to be positive. That’s the first rule in Life Club. Always transform into something better.

Transformation is occurring now, for me. I feel it and it is positive. I’m learning that to live unrepressed, one must keep in mind that the best of you is in there and can live strong and thrive. To adapt is to know that in the presence of the present, we can all thrive and push on gracefully.

But to get to that grace, fuggedaboudit. You have to be selfish and weird and ready to deal with some unknown power. I can’t deny feelings, I have to face myself head on, and just deal. Get ugly, grabby. Hate myself, then heal from that. Then – poof. You change. If you’re smart.

And I don’t hate myself. I love myself. Enough to live and thrive.

For me, writing really purges me – and then, I must admit, I do feel lighter. I buy me some space, some breath. Some vantage point.

It’s this gamble, where you take a look at how close the finale is, and you know your own self as someone who cannot lie to themselves…but you take it the ‘right’ way, and you make something great out of your life. Because this is your life, and it speeds.

My life has never been anything but…miraculous and truly amazing. Life Club is a really precious game. I am a transformer, after all. That’s what they tell me.


The god of Irony

I was hanging out with an old god, Ganesh, and I asked him very seriously to grant me a boon; please remove the obstacle that prevents me from living my life in peace, as I have been feeling more tortured than ever before.

And he removed hope. Didn’t plan on that one. Ha.



Empath on a Bender

I’m not so sure the path of least resistance is possible, though the path of LESS PAIN is.

There’s this mental space I go into every once in a while – it’s kind of like limbo, but darker and drearier, though it’s definitely a place where you wait for revelations to happen. The kinda of mental place that has to be cleared of all ‘things’ first so that you can have the damned revelation, if one is due. Revelations usually are just around the bend when you’re in a dark place, or when you’re in trouble up top, meaning – on earth.

I recently found myself going downhill rapidly, kinda just sucking down into the vortex of weird, feeling things TOO keenly – like an empath on a bender…so NOT good. Feeling things ‘too’ intensely isn’t good, nor is it superior, or romantic, or sensitive in a ego-boosting way. It’s actually too self-indulgent, but it happens automatically, and uncontrollably. It just totally sucks is what it really does. So, I was on an empathic bender, so to speak, and I was breaking down like nobody’s business.

I made myself sick over it…which worked perfectly well with the jet lag and the billion hour flight back on Air Ebola, coming back from the UK. So, between jet lag and a raging cold, no sleep AND my personal array of fuckedupness and oversensitivity, I ended up plummeting into that weird subterranean blackout spot, which is also known as the Da’at, in Kabballah. No, I’m not a practitioner, but I just know a little bit about everything in the world – you know that how goes. Continue reading “Empath on a Bender”


City of Love

The city of love
is a city of trash
and le Chat Noir
is le warning NO, a big bash in the paranoid head
Le Metro teems with possible threat
and everyone’s face is frightened and dead

Jet lag has taken away my ability
to know whether I’m just sick or depressed
the heart of gold, she hides in plain site
the heart of gold, how nobody figured that one out, what a blight.

Must I spell it out, that I tried
that I tried to be the shimmering light
that in order to shine I need to be seen
it’s quantum physics, that’s what I mean

Not a fraidy chat noir, NO
that kind of courage sparked an open passage
I went to the depths of love and found only skulls
and le warning NO, shhhh, and quiet
fragility lives here, hush or crush the cavern
moves true or false have power here
the choice: bury yourself alive
or crawl to the surface and flee
remember who you are, golden heart, heart of gold
remember who you are.

I cannot be dissolved in patterns
confused by mazes
I cannot fall again, knees cracked
fingers broken
I cannot fall again

It’s never a good sign to write poetry in one’s sleep
to wake up at 3, burning with ash in the throat
fending off sadness
never a good sign to cough up old bones, dust
never good to pull the skeletons of other bodies out of one’s own skin

time to yank on ye olde faithful switch of numbness
much like the emergency brake on Le Metro
stop this train
stop this pattern
stop this hopelessness
let the golden heart rise
let her rise up and be

All I want to do is give love and receive it
Is that too much to ask?
Must there always be such high stakes
must the payment always be compounded death?
I don’t want these skulls!
I don’t want this job!
I’m not the cemetery caretaker!
I’m the heart of gold, can’t you see it in my name?