Post by Laura on Dec 4, 2005 21:37:56 GMT -6
a/n: I know this doesn't make much sense.
If You're Broken.
it is 12:03am
the clock is flickering its hands
backwards every 41 seconds
to lose one second every time
I can smell the light
glowing under the door
it swirls into circles above my head
it speaks in letters,
jumble, jargon, it mumbles
and it reads me to sleep
but what is left to do?
you're cracking
and you're breaking into shards
too large to fit into my palms
if I cut myself and the blood doesn't run out
I'll let you have a kiss after tonight is over
after we have said our goodnights
and I roll on to the side where you were
the spot is warm but you're not here
again.
how can I spill out for you?
- to you -
grab my purse and I'm out the door
chasing you like violence
and crime
and the trees, the streets,
and everything in between is blurring
a mosaic in my eyes
the corners cut
my eyes are straightened
where have you gone?
where have you run to now?
it doesn't matter if we're broken together
if we press into each other
long enough to mould
we should be one again
and this will be a guessing game
this will be a disguise
an unwantedness I once was
would vanish, perish,
we would dance
again.
but what is left to do?
when you're cracking
when your skin is shedding
and creating tiny streams where I can store my tears
until you revive again.
If You're Broken.
it is 12:03am
the clock is flickering its hands
backwards every 41 seconds
to lose one second every time
I can smell the light
glowing under the door
it swirls into circles above my head
it speaks in letters,
jumble, jargon, it mumbles
and it reads me to sleep
but what is left to do?
you're cracking
and you're breaking into shards
too large to fit into my palms
if I cut myself and the blood doesn't run out
I'll let you have a kiss after tonight is over
after we have said our goodnights
and I roll on to the side where you were
the spot is warm but you're not here
again.
how can I spill out for you?
- to you -
grab my purse and I'm out the door
chasing you like violence
and crime
and the trees, the streets,
and everything in between is blurring
a mosaic in my eyes
the corners cut
my eyes are straightened
where have you gone?
where have you run to now?
it doesn't matter if we're broken together
if we press into each other
long enough to mould
we should be one again
and this will be a guessing game
this will be a disguise
an unwantedness I once was
would vanish, perish,
we would dance
again.
but what is left to do?
when you're cracking
when your skin is shedding
and creating tiny streams where I can store my tears
until you revive again.
