The side I never knew...
Entirely, was you.
Trading in the confusion you feed.
Completely new animal. Completely new breed.
Rearranged by the constant of a ghost.
A stranger who found his body a host.
Whose touch is something to beware.
For a selfish serpent has no care.
Whose mind was washed by others opinion.
Secluding himself to a backwards companion.
Drenched to the bone by poor decision.
Consuming oxygen's way of revision.
Welcoming an uncomfortable thought.
Before one's born, a casket is bought.

They caught her in a prism between red and blue.
Where lemonade is 25 cents a cup.
But you're not allowed to drink it.
Where the doors always opened.
But you can't get past the screen.
Where the windows pass the coolest breeze.
But never shut so night lets the bugs in.
Where there's always a hand willing to help.
But five more hands stabbing you in the back.
Where pianos are vintage and rare.
But nobody knows how to read the music.

My hands they do not touch you
though they're longing to comb through your hair.
My voice rings off into the distance
and you may hear it but you're not there.
My spirit she scales by slowly
treading in places there's relation.
Like the night she's mild
though a complicated constellation.

The color of his eyes after one too many drinks.
The color of the light he ran because he "couldn't think."
The color of his face whenever I did something wrong.
The color of love although for me that color's gone.
The color of the lipstick she left there on his cheek.
The color of the underwear found in his car that week.
The color of the Valentine he gave to me that year.
The color that he glowed when he watched me drown in tears.
The color of the mark that slap left on his face.
The color of the blood in his mouth that he could taste.
The color of that power button that turned me on and off.
The color of the germs in that cheating cough.
The color of the gas can used to drench his floors.
The color of the lighter that helped those bright flames soar.
The color of the truck that intended to save the day.
Red's the color of the ashes when you threw it all away.

And if they space out for just a little while longer,
he'll start to see her shapes and colors.
Pouring in through the peripherals.
Until he's captivated by her memory.
Existent in an envelope of time most don't have.
An unimaginable perspective to the blind blade.

Twisted and stuck further to add reason in red.
A Raggedy Ann doll future at the bottom of the bed.

The abominable snowman who failed to brake.
Causing an avalanche that froze hearts.
The vibration beneath his boot.
The sigh that was a gust of icicles.
"Baby it's cold outside."
Baby it's cold inside.
Baby that's him.

My water tower in the sun, my pillar in the dark.
Rust on a warehouse door, **** anatomy of a shark.
A hidden, naked cartoon, vulnerable and hurt.
The afternoon rays of light, exposing my empire of dirt.

Squid in a dark room, forgotten seat for you to ****.
Discovering rotten apples, the fruitless empty pits.
Far on the *****, the eye is negligent to mankind.
No on has *****, yet "American ****" isn't hard to find.

From this floor to the next, watch out for the holes.
Stalactites are forming, between the rods and the poles.
The gang is all here, each with a gat.
Questioning Detroit, wondering "where da party at."

A symphonic silence, from abandoned piano keys.
For the love of the city, the birds and the bees.
A ladder to assist you, in anything but a climb.
Wasting away the day, when all you have is time.

Where they once opted elevators, they now offer only stairs.
Peacefully residing, in the asbestos, grime, and the glares.
The walls they're all puking, a paint chip epidemic.
No chalk at the chalkboard, a failed academic.

Some sign walls in scribble, some bless us with art.
Beautiful light fixtures hang, while sanctuaries fall apart.
The debris and the rubble, wooden frames and the splinters.
A back road in the city, in the dead cold of winter.

An altar to stand at, with no sermon or expectation.
A pew a sinner can rest, with only God's examination.
A wall devoted to an *****, hymnal at hand.
Stained glass more exaggerated, with shards in the plan.

Dancing on floorboards in rafters, climbing up to rooftops.
Wandering and trespassing, trying to avoid cops.
Panda bears, pillar ****, and playing in the snow.
In the shadows and the blackest rooms, I really like to go.

Pussycats in hallways and the golden lightning kitty.
Posing seductively in vacancy is where I feel pretty.
I've seen the light at the end of the tunnel, I've found King David.
Interrogated with the whys and don'ts, though I wish they'd save it.

Picasso in the projects, Sloth and Marilyn Manson.
Fairmont Creamery Company, a view held for ransom.
Some window panes are for looking out, some for looking in.
Struggle Buggy Snow White still sleeps, forever strugglin'.

I've seen them ask for me, "Warriors come out to play."
Detroit is to me, what night is to day.
I caught Pikachu and have seen a **** elephant.
In the frost of the Fisher, I found a heart that was spent.

But the cardio made of brick, spoke with such sass.
Resting bones at the Packard, in an armchair that's trash.
Patriots are nosey and robots attack.
Never putting an hour on when I'll get back.

On top of the world, or looking up from the bottom.
Abandoned buildings, schools, churches, there's something about them.
Where a tree has a better chance of rooting and planting.
When a society suddenly seems a bit slanting.

Color a flower on a wall that's been broken and charred.
Breathe life into a battlefield, encourage the scarred.
Take away ego and vanity, glance into a filthy mirror.
Don't just listen to a person, actually hear.

Sure maybe at times I may seem a bit morbid.
And my words can be harsh and approach kind of forward.
But when you're standing alone, in a hallways that's dead.
Whose last bell has been rung and last book has been read.

Then you hear footsteps from the floor up above.
It's in that uncanny awareness.
And fear...
I find love.