Things I deemed irreplaceable,
choices, acts, unexplainable,
words and sightings,
breath taking lightings
on a statue under cloth.
My sloth got the best
of me, my eyes the rest.
I took you in and let you touch me
get me, see me, you were holding
every string, pulling ever so slightly,
making me dance, making me sing.
I forgot how we were equally the same
I removed the drapes much too late,
the statue had gotten into a rotten state,
decayed, nothing stayed except its frame.
Pedestals, forged without a sound,
rose and carried you up towards the stars,
where you belonged, where all could see.
Yet as you went, I frowned,
my dreams fought wars
with the harsh reality.
And I begged of you to show your face,
return to the ground or leave no trace
behind, my mind devoured beauty
as if it was breakfast, as if it was his duty
to make things up and mourn the loss
of any unimagined creature to come across
this lonesome land.
With a rope in hand
we seek perfection,
instead of growing,
fill the void with thought
to end up throwing
art in bins, for nought.
When we get caught
for all our sins
that's when actual love begins.
Jan 20, 2017
Jan 20, 2017 at 8:31 PM UTC
Things I deemed irreplaceable,
choices, acts, unexplainable,
words and sightings,
breath taking lightings
on a statue under cloth.
My sloth got the best
of me, my eyes the rest.
I took you in and let you touch me
get me, see me, you were holding
every string, pulling ever so slightly,
making me dance, making me sing.
I forgot how we were equally the same
I removed the drapes much too late,
the statue had gotten into a rotten state,
decayed, nothing stayed except its frame.
Pedestals, forged without a sound,
rose and carried you up towards the stars,
where you belonged, where all could see.
Yet as you went, I frowned,
my dreams fought wars
with the harsh reality.
And I begged of you to show your face,
return to the ground or leave no trace
behind, my mind devoured beauty
as if it was breakfast, as if it was his duty
to make things up and mourn the loss
of any unimagined creature to come across
this lonesome land.
With a rope in hand
we seek perfection,
instead of growing,
fill the void with thought
to end up throwing
art in bins, for nought.
When we get caught
for all our sins
that's when actual love begins.
We all do it
we all make mistakes.
It's the fraud, the pride,
all to make our pupils wide.
I should have known better
than to let her see
things that aren't me,
things I'd never want to be
again.
