The knife I take down my throat
To vindicate my thoughts
Of ruinous infection,
Deceives all sensation,
All thoughts, and ceases
To exist myself,
Until the blade conceals,
And the only tell
Of even its unsheathing
Is that of the daylight
Pouring in through
Windows of which
I had forgotten,
To strike the flower
I left out alone in the open.

The scent of the previous day
Made aware though permeation
From the bottles
Left open
To fill the air
With their intention,
But lit candles
Will once again
Flush the awful realization,
As the day sheds colors
To the night,
And when the music hits,
And the temperament
Fills veins with built and bottled-up
Stresses, the candles will smell great
As the chaser takes away the sting
From the blade,
And the flower, unconcealed,
Let without any pressures
Or internal guilt,
Finally able to be myself,
If only for one more night.

one day ill lay beneath the flowers
my soul blossoming outwards,
only to be compressed by the soil.
once more rejected, failing to love...
poor little me, won't know what else to do..!
but tear into themselves,
crying for all of eternity...
but they say that tragedy is a beauty,
which is why the flowers blossom
over my pitiful grave.
and isn't it funny...?
laughable almost,
to be the source of your own misery

You've always talked with lies,
But I really liked you a lot,
Already sinked in your blue eyes,
And your stale muscles, oh God.

Honey, let's walk down at the streets,
Watching at the cold sea which is just like my heart,
We can get as far as our feets
Can carry us, I don't mind to make our lives two work of art.

Look at these gloomy skies,
Let me know if you thought about me at least once,
'Cause when I look at the sun rise,
I clearly can see you in the smile of the sun rays dance.

I've fallen in love too much long,
And wrotten a lot of poems and songs,
But I still can't forget you,
No matter how hard I try to,
I can see you in the air,
I can hear you in the sound of my guitar.
I still love you a lot,
I still guess on a flower "do you love me or not?",
I really love you a lot,
And i just can't make it stop.

i have become angry
angry at how
the colors in the sky
are painted of you

and all the colors
you said
i reminded you of

have washed away from me
and into the earths skin
so that they may
form sheets of flowers

to remind the earth
of how your beauty
still lives within a world

that is no longer beautiful
to people
such as me