charmcityhippie
05-30-2007, 12:16 AM
he called at one and told me to meet him at the usual place, the usual time
under a faded crimson sky i told my friend that i wanted to die
and how every day i cry with no concrete reason why
and have bad dreams every night or every night i manage to dream
and feel sickly like i am forever lost at sea or in a state of perpetual motion
and all the girls i used to know are married and moved away
and they're so much happier than me, they tell me every chance they get
he told me that i need to wake up from this nightmare and accept the actuality
reality as truth, hostile stars that shine like shards of broken glass in the sun
i asked him if he would find it in his heart to end my suffering
his harsh reply was a kiss on the lips and a retort to shut up
pouring me a glass of homemade honey liquor instead, he told me to drink
i obey. god, i hate that taste so much. honey is the essence of death
but still i swallow until the trees sway though no wind rustles their leaves
the cold earth beneath me spins faster and faster on its crooked axis
until we pass out together somewhere in the park i don't recall
before the sunrise, we jolt awake wondering how we got into this plastic playscape
tangled in a tube that we could not have possibly crawled into inebriated
and of course he knows no better way to put me in my place
then to throw a looking glass into my face and make me see myself
tendrils of hair wet with dew or rain and shivering with the early morning chill
he said broken hearts are easy to hide, ignore, leave to rot and die
when you break your heart, nothing really cracks, it just distorts
leaving you cynical or bitter, sometimes both, or sometimes you waste away
from the sheer wretchedness of the emotions that are forced upon you
he smiled shrewedly and reflected our faces. 'look at you, look at me'
'nearly twenty five years and nothing to show for our trials and failures'
16 we were children and not yet able to see the error of our ways
18 we were hopeful for a golden bright future, impervious and immortal
20 we were confused, wondering when it was we became vulnerable to fate
and now we are simply and slowly wandering blind, no hope left to dream
i ask him once more if there was a point in living this unfeeling lie
(and like a bed of roses, there's a dozen reasons in this gun)
he presses one finger against my ashen lips and quiets my internal reflection
he tells me it is time to go to sleep, that the sun will shine in the morning
and i can do nothing but agree. sleep with me in my bed for the rest of the nighttime
its so cold outside but we will know no frost upon our wintery hearts
so long as we accept that to really live in the present we've given ourselves
we must open our hearts to the dreams we once allowed to overtake our souls
and stop living in fear of an uncertain future or lurking in the shadows of a crippling past
under a faded crimson sky i told my friend that i wanted to die
and how every day i cry with no concrete reason why
and have bad dreams every night or every night i manage to dream
and feel sickly like i am forever lost at sea or in a state of perpetual motion
and all the girls i used to know are married and moved away
and they're so much happier than me, they tell me every chance they get
he told me that i need to wake up from this nightmare and accept the actuality
reality as truth, hostile stars that shine like shards of broken glass in the sun
i asked him if he would find it in his heart to end my suffering
his harsh reply was a kiss on the lips and a retort to shut up
pouring me a glass of homemade honey liquor instead, he told me to drink
i obey. god, i hate that taste so much. honey is the essence of death
but still i swallow until the trees sway though no wind rustles their leaves
the cold earth beneath me spins faster and faster on its crooked axis
until we pass out together somewhere in the park i don't recall
before the sunrise, we jolt awake wondering how we got into this plastic playscape
tangled in a tube that we could not have possibly crawled into inebriated
and of course he knows no better way to put me in my place
then to throw a looking glass into my face and make me see myself
tendrils of hair wet with dew or rain and shivering with the early morning chill
he said broken hearts are easy to hide, ignore, leave to rot and die
when you break your heart, nothing really cracks, it just distorts
leaving you cynical or bitter, sometimes both, or sometimes you waste away
from the sheer wretchedness of the emotions that are forced upon you
he smiled shrewedly and reflected our faces. 'look at you, look at me'
'nearly twenty five years and nothing to show for our trials and failures'
16 we were children and not yet able to see the error of our ways
18 we were hopeful for a golden bright future, impervious and immortal
20 we were confused, wondering when it was we became vulnerable to fate
and now we are simply and slowly wandering blind, no hope left to dream
i ask him once more if there was a point in living this unfeeling lie
(and like a bed of roses, there's a dozen reasons in this gun)
he presses one finger against my ashen lips and quiets my internal reflection
he tells me it is time to go to sleep, that the sun will shine in the morning
and i can do nothing but agree. sleep with me in my bed for the rest of the nighttime
its so cold outside but we will know no frost upon our wintery hearts
so long as we accept that to really live in the present we've given ourselves
we must open our hearts to the dreams we once allowed to overtake our souls
and stop living in fear of an uncertain future or lurking in the shadows of a crippling past