In some autumn nights
I’d sound aloud a shriek
That pierced my own ears
And fell, shortly after
To the hard stone floor
And tore what little sanity I claimed
Channeled a surreal, cruel name
And summoned a demon I wear on my sleeve for show
For I once claimed to know all about such things I knew nothing about
Yes on some autumn nights
When the sewers were dry thanks to my tear-drought and a year of northern lights shining in the distance was not enough to make up for it, on such oddly tender, half shivering nights, I found myself in a mirror or a lake looking back at myself in all that blueish haze of a time when I’d put a puzzle piece through a glitter door and call it art and dream about methodical things that spewed out of my heart
In a sky of purple dust
And amber ash
I’d fall flat on my face with a splash
In the snow, my blood would not clot, but spew out and then I guess the two distant eyes in the sky would look down and call such a thing odd
But being there in solitude
With no one coming or going; I’d lay
They’d call it art, but it’s just another off-day

You never realized,
How cold you could be,
Until you've binded,
All that you’ve seen.

Thought I was sane,
Holding emotions,
But I’ll never say,
My reasons and motives.

Stuck in your ice,
Hoping to freeze,
So I can fly,
And leave with just me.

I wanted the snow,
Caressed the flakes,
But forgot the boats,
So I’d never row,

Away to my island,
Calm and alone,
No one too silent,
No one to know.

You never thought,
Of how cold it gets,
Til' you wish for heat,
Wishing she’d left.

Screaming for heat,
Yelling for warmth,
Taking the feat,
Among Winter’s storm.