The horizon bleeds blood orange
And I can't help by smile.

We are made of the same materials.

Tell me sun, do you see our suffering and feel confusion that,
Even after you appear out
Of you slumber and give us light,
We still cry?
The star of our stars.
You're as needy as I.
With your yellow tongue
Sticking out and bringing tears out of my cavernous, hollow heart. That is where they rest.
Bump, bump.
Bump, bump.

My body is made out of the same materials as you, sun.
We are the same.
We are the same.

You light up our world
While I light up mine.

Remember, just like you sun,
I will only shine for so long.
Like you, I need to disappear,
If only for a time.
With your neat, permanent, burning skin, you vanish for the night.
I, too, vanish in the blackness
Of the night.

I imagine that is when you
Mostly do everything, but write.
I'll keep you alive with words.
You keep me alive with light.

Deal?

All of this;
This birds and the bees
And the moons other, hidden face,
Cannot be real.
All of this
Pain and judgement,
It kills me.
I am all the corpses of time.
All of this;
The shock on my face.
I have lost my tongue.
These backward people only
Go, go, go towards
Pain.
These rose colored glasses have
Been shattered into pieces
That now room the earth,
Looking, seeing what I see: pain.

Divorce splits not only families,
But souls.
It leaves damage more powerful
Than a hurricane,
But,
Like a thief in the night,
It leaves no evidence behind.

Divorce, like a scab,
Might heal the wound, but the scar
Is always present.

Although my moon isn't your mom,
And this night isn't your night,
My heart thirst for your truth.
Did you think of us when you
Were with her?

Time relapses under my eye lids;
I cry again.
The ghost of your deeds always haunts me.
Does it haunt you?

Dad...you broke me.
I am weaker with you.
You still walk this earth,
Void in my heart.

I forgive you, though.
I can't love you, though.

You're old now
And I'll catch up,
To a point.
I'm you, in some sense.
I'm you.
I'm you.

Dad, I'm done.
Dad, I'm writing this
For you.
I'm through.

She won't climb down from that hill.
She has nostalgia stuck in her throat.
It's left her voice rather hoarse.
She won't climb down from that hill.

Forced rhyming cannot dance.
It only struts, like a bandit in the night.
It steals all the important things:
It's in the words!

She made a home on that hill.
Sadistic how she could only think
of her own.
ALL!
A much needed detachment from the world;
she's tired.

The grass will eventually die.
Show me what doesn't.
I'll show you Adam and Eve,
post Sin.

She won't come down from that hill.
Not no more.
She not needed come down from that hill.
She's her own will.
She's her own hill.
Free!

The birds and the bees
See what I see:
I'm a prisoner to your eyes.

The fox and the wolf
Taste what I taste:
Your tongue taste like lies.

The snake and the snail
Touch what I touch:
Your rotting skin.

The dog and the rabbit
Smell what I smell:
I'm your unwashed, decaying toy.

The bat and the owl
Hear what I hear:
I love you sweetie.

My senses betrayed me.