The night is worn thin from this viewpoint. the river
dances still; down the hill, under the rumbling bridge
cluttered with people separate in their own cyclical worlds &
the city glimmers with two thousand diamond fake stars just
beyond the dark tree line. we are watching this world happen
from far away.
We are spectators in a world who has long since
forgotten us.
i say i want to change the world & you say it’s
something good in me. You don’t know what i’m thinking & i
can see it in your eyes when you turn away. Words aren’t as
strong with you.
you want something more from me, something i have never
been able to fully give before. in particular dreams i see
myself exposed. you are the surgeon & i am your patient. your
scalpel cuts through thin skin, inch by inch, careful &
precise. blank sterile walls.
the smell of death & life as
well; it’s contradictory.
my blood too is thin & you wipe it
away with your sleeve. searching for my heart. peeling back
flesh. broken bones & absent heart; i’ve pushed it deep inside.
you say you want more but i wasn’t prepared for this.
**brixtonbell.com
