Splatter paint has stained His sunlit skin Blacks, blues, and grays chained Him to his sin Painted words have trained Him on what could have been
His charcoal tears Paved roads as they fell And after years I'm still under his spell His streets still refuse to disappear, Still lead me out of my hell
I wanted to say something Off the top of my head. I wandered in circles, in a spiraling ring. A corpse that doesn't know she's dead.
I had something On the tip of my tongue. I wrung out my hands, ripped out the bones, 'Till there were no fingers left to wring. A breath that never filled her lung.
I need something To be the thrum of my heart. Something -someone- more than a fling And who won't so soon depart.