electric wheel chairs and electric wires in your brain,
blood filled clouds shower on the insane.
unfinished projects pilled in your garage,
the pain in your spine could use a massage.
ribbons glue head to neck,
they connect like a child's
cheek and a mothers' peck.
tiny hands
full of life
and unstructured strokes
soon to be a house
full of unknown smokes.
these lights are painful,
like cold sores
and it hurts to kiss,
and it tastes like dirt.
I've read your books and I know your worth,
but now you're discolored, and your heart lost its beat.
and you're freezing, slowly, and becoming a piece of this earth.
I feel so alone, and I miss those beats.
Is it sad
that I can still smell you in the sheets?
May 6, 2010
May 6, 2010 at 9:55 PM UTC
electric wheel chairs and electric wires in your brain,
blood filled clouds shower on the insane.
unfinished projects pilled in your garage,
the pain in your spine could use a massage.
ribbons glue head to neck,
they connect like a child's
cheek and a mothers' peck.
tiny hands
full of life
and unstructured strokes
soon to be a house
full of unknown smokes.
these lights are painful,
like cold sores
and it hurts to kiss,
and it tastes like dirt.
I've read your books and I know your worth,
but now you're discolored, and your heart lost its beat.
and you're freezing, slowly, and becoming a piece of this earth.
I feel so alone, and I miss those beats.
Is it sad
that I can still smell you in the sheets?
