You owe me nothing but to breathe.
To remember how I tore my heart in
Two rendering a

Blood Eagle to stretch its wings and
Tickle our souls with its sticky feathers.
When I think of us, I see us as we were.

Other people than now.
Memories framing themselves like a
Fantastic painting the artist

Stepped back to admire, then died.
Hang me. Hang me before i hang
Myself.

Dramatically opposed to drama.
Uninterested infatuation.
Broke billionaire.

Mortal gods shaking divine hands
With decomposing composers,
Thanking them for the silence.

We were lovers and enemies, and
I'd still give my life and afterlife to
See you worship another as if I

Never left a fingerprint on this
Planet; resting as safely in arms that
Love you unendingly,

As we all lie sleeping; dreaming
In our own, stronger arms,  
Forgetting that even our loving

Is imaginary.
Death is awakening.
Rubbing the

Eyes of our souls and yawning,
We look up and smile at that which
All of this is a bleak and fleeting

Shadow of.
Plato knew.
When I wish to die, I do too.

This love is not Love.
It's all mud and air.
You owe me nothing but to breathe.

We stand
Arms length
Hands like soldiers in the night
Wanting something better
Than the rumours of the world

Listen to the beat
The stamping feet
The parade rhythm of life
Tearing us asunder

The kind of etheric dance
That makes you stay up
Late at night with wonder

Longing
For security
An in-breath
Becomes a bullet
Shattering illusions

I hold my breath
Hearing you near
Body exhales;
No more fear

As the flames and smoky fire
Consume our souls
We melt the wire...
Yet still a connection stands
Electric voice screams
A heartfelt song,
Carried across victorious lands
Singing 'we will never forget you...'

Afterward, fumes fill the air
Birds sing along the creek
Silence crashes like symbols
As I read your last words
'We only depart to meet...'