We can't find
our paradise on clouds
My hands are together praying
between two houses on fire,
Whilst I watch the unforeseeable
Perish into ashes of wool-gather.
Razors, Scissors and chainsaws
will cut me all the same,
Yet you were the bloodiest cut
I've ever been prescribed,
Poison drips from your skin
matching the sap from weeping willows.
Jun 23, 2017
Jun 23, 2017 at 8:46 AM UTC
We can't find
our paradise on clouds
My hands are together praying
between two houses on fire,
Whilst I watch the unforeseeable
Perish into ashes of wool-gather.
Razors, Scissors and chainsaws
will cut me all the same,
Yet you were the bloodiest cut
I've ever been prescribed,
Poison drips from your skin
matching the sap from weeping willows.
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