My face decolorates piece By piece each Day I have to Respond to the awake Cells of my form.
Shades fly down the Well of drained souls Turning into blooming Flowers for another To admire while I Dry out of canvases.
A body stuck between Memory's book walking The thin line of darkness The future sticks to The present; Is wondering What's beyond the Dark my feet walk on.
Orange fingers Wear the beize cardigan Of my brown nails, I'm digging gravely my own coffin.
Argent Rim of my Cupped bloody Tears drips in Impatience, how Much can my Heart Hold on to the Gold of my Crime?
My head fills with Emptiness, in a Dislocated Motion I grab The last bit Of youth inside My flowery nature But I can't face The artillery of it's severed Spine, I'm getting Older.
Snapping Pictures of my Heartaches has drained my Veins, heart in hand I try to Snooze the Effect of it's beating Acronym. I'm tired Of bandaging my Heart each time it Pulsates for happiness But is never received