Trickle
The light trickles down like a stream: a river of dreams on a reel.
And these rolling scenes seem so real that I feel her steel in my side-
the dagger’s surreal and alive and feel it carving my spine.
Her mind is as blind as a shrine unlit and forbidden to shine.
Yet she’s mine…nevertheless: a caress frozen in time.
Rampant molecules compose all her rhymes while I lose my sight
and decompose in the presence of fright.
I can’t bite my tongue anymore. I can’t fight these words that arise from my core.
I’m a shell of a man in this hell where I stand, where I turn and I burn until my ashes collide in a bitter good-bye.
Yet she’s mine…always mine.
And her smile might be cold and her stories untold
And her skin’s made of sins and her heart’s etched in pins.
...and she cuts with her grin for her world never spins.
~Here I lie paralyzed with my eyes carved in ice~
And this darkened embrace I salute with my very last sigh:
for she’s mine…only mine.
(nothing personal. I just love writing dark shit. lol)
7/8/08
