Dec 31, 2002 12:19
I wrote this last night sometime in the early morning hours...hence, it's randomness and crappiness. Help anyone?
(note: edited on february 6th, 2003)
~
a gust of wind and your life's on end,
do you feel so superior now, darling?
now that you're nothing but paper
in the air and broken pieces of girl
over subflooring?
fluttering breezily all legs and eyes and dreams flying broken from the windowsill;
breathing glitter-eyed into the light that your eyes refuse to acknowledge
all worship and prayer and organ music
while you're wondering how much faster the blood will flow
if you're in the bathtub instead of kissing a boy among the tiles
baby girl, you've got so much growing up to do
you're all sugar dreams and webbed schemes
that you know will never counter the dread
that's been building up since London Bridge came falling down
so many years ago and you can't close your eyes without remembering to breathe
a lazy graze across a bare stomach and you're back again,
to a night when the world rotated to hear your story
and you told yourself you were still alive
long before you stopped believing in him
and started believing that life started at noon
and that the time the sun burnt eyelids to ash
was nonexistent
bearing proudly a smile and the name Phoenixchild
a silver tear for rose-footed girl dying all alone without
jasmined-fingered boy to provide a cataclysmic embrace
that would destroy the world into beauty
just a touch to keep the world on its axis
the pawns and bishops and kings and queens
all in their rightful positions
stony-eyed, somber
undead because they never lived
[checkmate]