I would like to tear your chest
And rip it open with my hands.
Grabbing, pulling at your heart
And freeing it from muscle strands.
Holding like a baby bird
I'll kiss it, beating on my lips.
Watching as with every thump
Your teardrop blood escapes and drips.
Full of love I'll kiss each day and
Full of lust I'll lick each night.
If to you, this all seems wrong,
I'd hate to be within the right.

The world as it seems
Has been painted for me
By what is inside my own brain.
So this may be why
All that's beautiful dies
While misery always remains.

In your breath are magic spells
Which wisp and curl on every word,
And as they waltz, your rhythmic voice
Becomes the sweetest sound I've heard.
There is such phonetic grace
In every phatic word you place,
But should your lips eclipse my name,
And let it slip with warm acclaim,
Or better yet, in passions flame,
Should you, with love for me proclaim,
Then science, to its knees will fall
As air will hold no oxygen,
Nor argon, neither nitrogen,
But beauty, magic. That is all.

Death may have taken you separate,
But once more you two are now whole,
Buried together, from ashes to ashes,
Particles plenty but singular soul.
Maybe there's comfort in thinking
That death we could someday undo.
For now though, you both sleep in silence,
And live through the roses above you.
He cried as he watched her get lowered,
In hopes from her grave she may climb.
Death may have taken you separate,
But now you are one for all time.

The autumn's scent has now released
As air is crisp and rife with chills,
But cold like this is far from bleak
With all these trees where crimson spills.

Orange leaves that catch the sunlight,
Skeletal, their frames are showing.
In their shades of death they give
A final dance from breezes blowing.

The prickling tickles fingertips
To stiffened, numb monstrosities,
And you could swear your blood had froze
To cause such harsh viscosity.

For it's now that summer weeps
A solemn, meek exhailed despair,
Which whistles in among the leaves
And dissipates in frozen air.

The autumn's scent has now released,
The orange, red and yellow shows,
The rigid fingers point away
As summer sighs, and summer goes.

I can recall, in the past, with my mother,
How every street was so ripe and alive.
How every sight, every smell, every thing,
Would shimmer and brim and dazzle and thrive.
So, now I ask, as I sit in the dark,
Surrounded and shrouded, unable to see;
Did something change, has something happened,
Or does the problem reside within me?

With every song, it seems, today
I'm dragged, while kicking and screaming, through time.
Slipping between every crack in dimensions,
Feeling the slap and the burn of each rhyme.
Almost nostalgic, but colder.
When goosebumps had formed, it all became clear.
In days long passed, you had shown me these songs
That steal my mind whilst my body's stuck here.