All that's left in her cold veins
Is what hasn't been excised
She stares off into the crowd
Wondering what it's like
To have a soul.

I am madness,
and sunshine while it rains
but I am no rainbow
there's no light at the end of this tunnel
only darkness
lit by florescent counterfeits.
I am a wind storm
messy, never dangerous
but always unpredictable.
I have spent my days
worried with things I cannot control
and I so badly want
something I can hold close to.
But I am solid as a rock
and when I approach you
it will cause some damage.
I have known for a long time
that loving me is hard
because I've tried
and even I get tired.
I am clay,
easily molded
but when left dry and untouched
I turn to stone.
It may take some time,
but even a diamond
needs pressure
to be beautiful.

tonight i will replace
draining my blood
and the sight of the dark, intriguing, red liquid,
being wrenched from my body with the familiar of wine.
I've never been one to like the taste,
so **** and untastful,
but it's as if my taste buds have changed and the recipe was switched fore I've never tasted anything sweeter.

(a.b)

As I watch the sun evaporate today
I'm sure you wished it luck
Awaiting its safe return
This is a strange sensation that I'm facing
Bittersweet memories of when you faded away

You've been gone for quite some time now
Leaving true intentions in open view
You only crossed the ocean upon first snowfall
But this transatlantic separation
Has only brought me closer to you

It reminds me that distance was our specialty
Our love cast out into distant atmospheres
Only vagabonds dared to see
And we examined every inch of stratos between us
Connecting all the constellations we perceived

But you cried out for home far too often
And I tried to climb through space far too soon
It seems my courage was only matched by your convenience
A collection of defenses sent out on hot air balloons
A contradiction floating freely to the moon

So while I hold onto every flickering excuse
As you journey through the unknown
I hope you realize how fitting this trip may seem
For the first time you left your worries at home
A step you always skipped with me

Déjà vu
only exists
for those
whose eyesight
has amnesia