I know better than to pray for you.
Wind knocks down every streetlamp of this twilight boulevard.
Muddied moss dirties the weathering walls of this snowy burial.
Feathered blue light can hardly seep in through the white drapes,
Casting our black silhouettes in several different directions.
Red liquid bleeds out of my carved open heart.
"You are safe, right?"
I wonder what your comfort would feel like,
Wistfully searching for life within an empty void.
Moldavite chandeliers fall from the ceiling and shatters around me.
Falling down to my knees helplessly before you,
Crystals catch and refract the light as they bob off my eyelashes.
Reaching out in vain, my fingertips can only brush the edge of this boundary.
You have to understand, i want to talk to you.
I flick the lights but it only makes the darkness glow,
What kind of blade do i need to cut through and reach you?
Miracles are only within reach when i'm unconscious,
Fueled by the fragments of our memories that coat the corners of my mind with ink.
Can't you see that i don't want to do this?
Rocking myself in the darkness, waiting for you to realize.
You have to feel it too, please tell me you feel it too.
I wish my feelings could reach you.
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