more than anything
i’d sit in the greenery
while it wraps up to my knees
and you’ll speak in unfinished messages
and we’ll all glisten with a shining aura
and a mask of invincibility.
the epic drag of nights past will diminish
and bleed out of our pores
as we gaze towards the sun
and
burn white holes into the picture we perceive.
there wont be any eerie waves of emptiness
because the grass will grow into our bones
and flow in our veins
while we feel the soothing abrasions from the
scalding black top beneath our feet.
it’ll warm our souls for eternity
and we’ll feel every heavy word
enter our minds
in different shades of color.
we can find contentment in ourselves
as we scream for an eternal happiness
that fills our lungs with every struggle for air.
surviving will become more real
and will heal our aching bones
and pluck the embedded thorns of regret
from our numb eyes.
we’ll feel whole.
we’ll feel whole.
we’ll feel content.
we’ll feel whole.
we’ll feel real.
the sun will radiate
an incoherent essence
that blesses our eyelids.
we’ll bury the bullets that we kept
on our nightstands
for a rainy day.
i’ll feed the flesh of my sorrows
to the once rabid creatures who lay
in the river banks.
they’ll engulf it like
it once did to me and i’ll
throw my mistakes downstream.
Feb 6, 2012
Feb 6, 2012 at 1:27 AM UTC
more than anything
i’d sit in the greenery
while it wraps up to my knees
and you’ll speak in unfinished messages
and we’ll all glisten with a shining aura
and a mask of invincibility.
the epic drag of nights past will diminish
and bleed out of our pores
as we gaze towards the sun
and
burn white holes into the picture we perceive.
there wont be any eerie waves of emptiness
because the grass will grow into our bones
and flow in our veins
while we feel the soothing abrasions from the
scalding black top beneath our feet.
it’ll warm our souls for eternity
and we’ll feel every heavy word
enter our minds
in different shades of color.
we can find contentment in ourselves
as we scream for an eternal happiness
that fills our lungs with every struggle for air.
surviving will become more real
and will heal our aching bones
and pluck the embedded thorns of regret
from our numb eyes.
we’ll feel whole.
we’ll feel whole.
we’ll feel content.
we’ll feel whole.
we’ll feel real.
the sun will radiate
an incoherent essence
that blesses our eyelids.
we’ll bury the bullets that we kept
on our nightstands
for a rainy day.
i’ll feed the flesh of my sorrows
to the once rabid creatures who lay
in the river banks.
they’ll engulf it like
it once did to me and i’ll
throw my mistakes downstream.
