|
Skin of porcelain.
Glistening ruby lips.
But she'll always keep me on that different level,
To ensure that hers and mine never meet.
Auburn hair flickers like the embers of her passion,
That still burn despite her sleepy eyes and the coffee stains in her notebook.
In those eyes my gaze feels at home,
Among the swirls of steel blue.
And though my voice, It makes her smile,
I know I'll never feel at home in her arms.
With the standards this world drew,
The void that seperates us from a selfless love grew.
And the rickety bridge of rotting wood,
A hope for a connection,
Was turned into,
A would've been,
A should've been,
A couldn't be.
So when I clutch to the steel,
Not unlike her eyes, on the long lonely journey home,
And her pale hands graze over my fingers
And the gusts of winter wind swirl in through the faded yellow doors,
Leaving her shivering within the dangling scarf around her throat.
I'll look into those bluish eyes, and ask her how she's been.
And she'll smile and say:
"I'm ok, what's new?"
And I'll reply "nothing"
Because nothing changes,
Neither me, nor you.
But every day I pray that you're the exception to the rule.
|
|
There's not much I could say but 'she made me smile'
The sun was rising and I sat there
Every star I was counting was another reason to breathe
Little did I know that my feet would collect dust on the road towards hell
Fibres that would make me choke and hate myself
Pieces of you I couldn't bare to look at before you split me just the same
The touches
The whispers
The wandering eyes
And I'm shaking now thinking how I let you get away
Like I swore I never would
Nothing burns and nothing hurts anymore
Pain is just a memory that haunts me in bed
When I'm thinking of your name
When I'm thinking of your face
When i'm wishing, waiting
For a better time a better place
It'll never come.
Everything goes, leaves and I'm left to the world
A 17 year old kid with a heart full of hate
Shivering, holding on to the fragments of a cold dead place
I'm broken
But I'd walk the road home to hell my entire life just to count the stars along the way.
|
|
Crumbs scattered on the napkin in a place a far, far away from home
She glances at her weathered time piece
but she's not bothered by the incessant ticking or the fact that her coffee is two sugars short and bitter to the taste.
Because just as the beans are ground up when her coffees made she's been crushed, torn to pieces with her chest caved in on it's old rusty hinges
And just as the farm fresh bread was baked her convictions have been set aflame transforming into something the common man can admire and lovingly taste after a few short words in a crowded city street
But how could she ever feel the same?
Her watch was still ticking but it wasn't the same time or place
And Her heart was still beating
But it was deadset on it's masochistic desires to focus on all the mistakes she made yesterday
And the word home was just some ridiculous passing phrase a distant memory of having that time having that place and not wanting to leave the love that slowly dimmed to ash like the old fire place on Christmas Day
As a child we never dream we will one day be far far away
Or that our hearts will bend strain and be pushed towards break
But it's the price of growing up into the people we always knew we'd be.
The ones that wondrously bloomed so precariously late.
|
