Thursday, June 9, 2011

.high on cough syrup. phase one.

.i know this could be the one that destroys me.

.shadows sift in moonlit darkness with no air
curtains billow above, in a day, they'll be threadbare
I'll go out, but suffocation will follow me everywhere
and he, of all the facades for this heart, will seem hollow

a something that remains elusive and its place is empty
know it's missing. but it was yours. and know it always will be
everything begins and ends with your voice saying pretty
every pair of syllables deepens that I'm shallow

awakened in a cold sweat, burning a nonexistent fever away
no recollection of either reality, 'cause time is at fray
artificial lights on stone turned un-stone. everything's gray
but one shocking streak of life painted across a nothing

scrape myself off the floor and think about ending this non-life for the hundredth time, once more
I need to exist, if only in this one moment for you. not afterward and not before
warmth snapping at its heels is no more than porcelain should endure
a streak of red against a gray-scale spiral, and I'm falling.

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