the flay.
With smiles and lies
and fists full of scalpels,
she opened my chest
like priests open chapels.
Grasping my heart in her fist
until it gave its last beat.
Looked in my eyes,
and dropped it at my feet.
why.
"I came here to love you, to hold you above..."
"Oh didn't you know?
That's how we say goodbye to the ones that we love."
grey.
Shuffling the pieces, applying the patches
and the verse falls to the soul,
like soot to the ashes.
cartography.
stitched the walls back together.
stitched the bandages;
stitched the cream;
I stitched and I stitched,
forever it seems.
madness.
I rock on my knees
staring at the young, in-love, and naive.
I rock till the bones in my hips fall apart,
and out falls my heart, now just a spare part.
The stitches, I suppose, were not as sound as I thought.
Jul 21, 2013
Jul 21, 2013 at 3:55 AM UTC
the flay.
With smiles and lies
and fists full of scalpels,
she opened my chest
like priests open chapels.
Grasping my heart in her fist
until it gave its last beat.
Looked in my eyes,
and dropped it at my feet.
why.
"I came here to love you, to hold you above..."
"Oh didn't you know?
That's how we say goodbye to the ones that we love."
grey.
Shuffling the pieces, applying the patches
and the verse falls to the soul,
like soot to the ashes.
cartography.
stitched the walls back together.
stitched the bandages;
stitched the cream;
I stitched and I stitched,
forever it seems.
madness.
I rock on my knees
staring at the young, in-love, and naive.
I rock till the bones in my hips fall apart,
and out falls my heart, now just a spare part.
The stitches, I suppose, were not as sound as I thought.
hosts of battlements
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