All darkness surrounds her
Yet she illuminates
Her pale skin radiates
Like the pedals of a sunflower
Bleeding golden yellow under the pounding sun
She reaches for it, unwavering

I encroach on her radiance,
A black hand reaching out
Looking for someone to hold
But she welcomes me in
Warm and tender
A home for darkness in the light

I take a piece of her each day
Harvesting her happiness and joy
I wound her and try to put her pedals back on
She rages like a wildfire
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned

Yet her love remains
Wild and untamed
Bursting through her chest like a herd of stallions
I cling to her side
Begging for forgiveness
But she’s already moved on
She’s again reaching for the sun

Sometimes I flip through picture albums,
to remember the days,
a familiar face.
They are kindling for my wavering fire,
anything to keep the flame alight.

Hot coals singe the ends of memories,
cauterize them before they bleed away.
What I would give,
to breathe that days air again.

The world is thinking about you today.
How you're doing,
where you are.
Are you happy?
Are you far?
The world is thinking about you today.

The world is thinking about you today.
Did you dream?
Did you crawl?
Through the muck and the mire?
Do you have it all?
The world is thinking about you today.

The world is thinking about you today.
Breathe it in, breathe it out.
Let the warm air fill your lungs,
let the fire burn like a thousand suns.

The world is thinking about you today.

The world goes black then comes back again
I drift in and out of consciousness as I scroll through the history of my life
Tearing out the pages like they tore out my heart
Savages just trying to survive
Burning them one by one
Just enough to keep the fire alive
Breathe in
Out
Cold
Warm
In
Out
In

Hold-

I used to watch Thomas the Tank Engine as a child,
now it's called Thomas the Train.

I have pictures with Thomas the Tank Engine,
not Thomas the Train.

I love Thomas the Tank Engine,
not Thomas the Train.

Why did they change it to Thomas the Train?

He's a tank engine...

He's Thomas the Tank Engine.

Breathe in,
hold-

I've been here...

Strength wavering,
push out...

hold-

Don't let it in,
don't let it through...

Breathe in,
out,
in,
hold-

Decrepit fingers pry,
into the absence of my mind.

Boney, lanky and cold,
with an after burn to melt your soul.

Breathe in,
hold-

let go...

I broke down and wept yesterday,
at the sight of my grandparents grave.
Clutched dead grass in my trembling hands,
ripped it from the haunted lands.

Every year, it comes and goes,
the days I hoped would never come.
They say it gets easier with time,
though each year, it's another mountain to climb.

But sometimes,
you realize,
it can't get much worse.

Sometimes,
you realize,
it doesn't always hurt.

I leave just like I always do,
struggling to bid them both adieu.
Rolling through the ghostly fields,
I wonder if it's all even real.

Another punch right in the gut,
leaves me fighting to get out of this rut.
Much like every day of my life,
filled with so much anger and strife.

But sometimes,
you realize,
it can't get much worse.

Sometimes,
you realize,
it doesn't always hurt.

And sometimes,
you realize,
it can't get anymore dead in a graveyard,
no matter how many black clouds roll by.
It can't get anymore dead in a graveyard,
no matter how many showers pour down.

It can't get anymore dead in a graveyard.

It can't get anymore dead in a graveyard.

It can't get anymore dead in a graveyard,
no matter how many people die.