What would you do,

If my heart had gone blue,
If all the lies we told became true,
If the grass had turned red,
the floor was our bed,
and everything we love, we never knew?

What would you say,

If your tongue became gray,
If dreams had started to fray,
If your voice found its place
in outer space
and the memories we had were washed away?

Would you sing me a song,
something saucy and long?

Would you play me a chord,
one that fluttered and soared?

or would you put on your shoes,
go where you choose
and sing along to your bottle-cap-blues?

A tree, standing barren, naked, lost.
A branch, weighed down by nothing but itself.
A leaf, drifting into the neck-breaking frost.

A group of people gathers with a hushed tone.
A black clad group, silently vexed,
Around a weeping rock, a crying stone.

A young voice breaks through,
"Mommy, will He ever take you?"

She turns away and so falls a tear

into a rising pile of lamentable fear.

If there were a hundred words for every feeling,
and a hundred feelings for every word
I wouldn't know
what word to write
nor which feeling to feel.

When your heart bleeds tears
and your eyes cry blood,

When your head grows nails
and you fingers spout hair,

When your lungs breath acid
and your stomach churns air,

Take a deep breath
and let it all just dissapear
all your worries,
all your fears.
Let them peel off, shed your camelion skin.
And soar
High above the towering tree tops
and the drooping dry dams
and the cold crystal clouds
and the rushing, reeling rivers.
Watch the bubbles disperse
one
by
one
until there are none.

I hold the gaze of an ice-chilling glacier,
Twinkling and oozing falsehood.
They glitter and sparkle,
Hiding hatred from the world.

Answer my question please,
I've paid such good attention.
Answer my question please,
I've participated exquisitely.
Answer my question please,
Or just stare me down with your cold,  gripping eyes and wait for the bell to save your soul
and condemn mine

Grey stone on Grey ground
Here had been a fire
Soot clung to the wet stone bricks
Ashes swirled
moving as one entity, pulsing with the breath of the wind

It gaped at me, this hole in the iced ground
A mouth condemned to a life of nothing but screams

The rough, jagged bricks bared
The thick ivy arched
The wind whisked past

I heard it
a tortured
consistant
screech

And I understood