traces through the printing press

[childisgone]

with rose petal knettles and
petty little kettles whining
next to ten thousand glasses
of red wine and grapes from
the vine pining for the time when
you'll use the line

let's just be friends
coming to an end of
bitter fights to fend
for life on streets through
strife in grief to die alone
through light that's
shone on times unknown
when all that's left is
bone and air

to share these feelings that've
festered in healing and killed me
in dealing with the dark and
lack of spark to light the candle
between our lips and hips and
double-tips of shot glasses
and types of grasses and
dropping acid through
faces placid who just
cant seem to care

with cherub cheeks and
laughing meek and futures
bleak and ribs that peek
through skin akin to paper's white
and devil's plight and angel's
falling from heaven's calling
on hands and knees and
crawling, please save me
from this place disgracing me
to hours of this gone bitter and
sour, dying a coward

when you're nothing more than
blossoms on a plate and hymns
written late and lying in a coffin
without a fate to save you
merely a trace of a sign
to read next time without
a dime to cross the line of tears
and fears of love through the years
displaced with your face crying
broken in disgrace with a love
you cant erase

because it's all that keeps me breathing