(no subject)
we choke on sparrow feathers
as though godsent from the trees
when the plumage clears it reveals
the patent leather lies of fathers
and hairline fractures on her heart
our mouths open and the black bird-petals fall around us
the ideas of stronger faith hide amongst the graves
unsaid promises crack and sputter in the wind
a promise to give away a woman veiled in white
to witness the evolution of a new generation
to fade slowly into shades of grey
to be a frail burden to the young-bodied offspring
six feet beneath february's icy ground
a memory of pale eyes and sparrow rain
is what dreaws me down dark roads
ive been thinking about him lately.
im starting to think he wouldnt be proud of who i am.
a year and a half later, and i still cant believe he's gone.
thats such a cliche.
but what else can death be?
as though godsent from the trees
when the plumage clears it reveals
the patent leather lies of fathers
and hairline fractures on her heart
our mouths open and the black bird-petals fall around us
the ideas of stronger faith hide amongst the graves
unsaid promises crack and sputter in the wind
a promise to give away a woman veiled in white
to witness the evolution of a new generation
to fade slowly into shades of grey
to be a frail burden to the young-bodied offspring
six feet beneath february's icy ground
a memory of pale eyes and sparrow rain
is what dreaws me down dark roads
ive been thinking about him lately.
im starting to think he wouldnt be proud of who i am.
a year and a half later, and i still cant believe he's gone.
thats such a cliche.
but what else can death be?