Bleeding Corporeal Fantasy
Twenty-four hours of a reminder, and twenty-four hours of the future. Stains always were my favorite accessory, and now the quiet doesn't seem so mighty.
I see hurricanes around their pupils, despite blank slate faces, and they whisper the details no one else can ever hear through lips unformed. Scars crosshatch the background, spectrums melt and meld. It's never what I can see, but they run through my veins; heart to wrist, mind to hand. They're my mixed media jealousy.
I'm swelling and anxious, sitting still is an impossibility, and every song reverberates within. If you can wait long enough, maybe I'll drag you down here someday; it's my perfection.
Just don't let this be fleeting.
I see hurricanes around their pupils, despite blank slate faces, and they whisper the details no one else can ever hear through lips unformed. Scars crosshatch the background, spectrums melt and meld. It's never what I can see, but they run through my veins; heart to wrist, mind to hand. They're my mixed media jealousy.
I'm swelling and anxious, sitting still is an impossibility, and every song reverberates within. If you can wait long enough, maybe I'll drag you down here someday; it's my perfection.
Just don't let this be fleeting.