(no subject)

[blindtolive]

three shards lay
in perfect dissonance
seperated by an exact image
relections cast by shadows glances
following forth, the mind-sight screams
upon the floor, a crimson river
a desire sated by nothing, anymore
cherished herald, beheld and begotten
a disheveled glance, and nothing more

upon thine hope, a halted angel
whos image dances from the corner
into the shards, alone and together
the crimson river flows so certain
without a care, a hope, or destination
reaching forth its taloned hope

moaning within, the sound of lightning
a carcassed moment, the soul is torn
abortions fed though self help networks
as images dance upon my floor
i hold my head, behold this nightmare
a lust for shards, alone and soured
craving for their indentations
to be marred across my filthy floor

its through these lungs
that breath can be seen
its through these mouths
that everthing is spoken
its through this lust
that ive bled myself from
destroying tiles upon my soul

three shards lay, with mouths agape
a cigarette rolls across the floor
a hand falls down from this disfigured painting
three lines instead
are now my home