Post by Whimsical||MUSE; on May 14, 2012 17:21:08 GMT -5
Crayon-Colored Fiction
This is my world: cracks in the lyrics
defined by texture,
their voices rough against my skin,
no, my ears, purring in a rumbling onslaught against my brain.
Our wavelengths are shortened to a naughty filthy point,
a dot is the definition of our lives
excessive in stillness; we stop breathing looking for comprehension
God stares down from above---
but he's struck me blind.
I am Gloucester, crying out against the tempest:
"Why didn't I see clear?!"
Why can't I see now?
I am Isis
sewing pieces of her husband together,
the same pattern, the same weave, this fabric of reality--
but he will never be the same. We will never be the same.
All those faces and places hurdling in my direction --
countdown to extinction,
all in a dream,
Who have I become?
What have I become?
Frankenstein --
pieces of everything -----
Osiris put together with love but nonetheless lifeless.
Dead. Destroyed.
Burning fire rumbles thick under my heart:
a piece left behind, or never created at all.
Can I find it in your hands? -- the way you touch me
is a road map of love, affection, need.
Drunk on the closeness,
how close, how close?!
Is this me, or you?
Does it matter?
Have I destroyed your thought as surely as you did mine?
Ah, ah, the pain! Fragments of words, strung together
in a cacophany of sound.
I cannot leave, but there is an eternity of silence after these words
that I cannot bear. I fill it, like the void.
We cannot move,
my life in your grasp. So close, so close.
(Can I suck the marrow in your bones?)
Our friction starting fires, igniting
fireworks under the sun.
Are you Fat Man, or Little Boy?
Am I Hiroshima, or Nagasaki?
We draw conclusions through centuries of history
retrace our steps with our fingers,
memory leading the way as our pieces get left behind.
I am singing to you now, though the song is vulgar;
Will you play? Just one song before the silence
ties a noose 'round our necks
and the trap doors swing open under our feet.
Play before the end,
our end,
just one song,
just once-------------------------------------
Let me touch your soul as deeply as you have played mine.
This is my world: cracks in the lyrics
defined by texture,
their voices rough against my skin,
no, my ears, purring in a rumbling onslaught against my brain.
Our wavelengths are shortened to a naughty filthy point,
a dot is the definition of our lives
excessive in stillness; we stop breathing looking for comprehension
God stares down from above---
but he's struck me blind.
I am Gloucester, crying out against the tempest:
"Why didn't I see clear?!"
Why can't I see now?
I am Isis
sewing pieces of her husband together,
the same pattern, the same weave, this fabric of reality--
but he will never be the same. We will never be the same.
All those faces and places hurdling in my direction --
countdown to extinction,
all in a dream,
Who have I become?
What have I become?
Frankenstein --
pieces of everything -----
Osiris put together with love but nonetheless lifeless.
Dead. Destroyed.
Burning fire rumbles thick under my heart:
a piece left behind, or never created at all.
Can I find it in your hands? -- the way you touch me
is a road map of love, affection, need.
Drunk on the closeness,
how close, how close?!
Is this me, or you?
Does it matter?
Have I destroyed your thought as surely as you did mine?
Ah, ah, the pain! Fragments of words, strung together
in a cacophany of sound.
I cannot leave, but there is an eternity of silence after these words
that I cannot bear. I fill it, like the void.
We cannot move,
my life in your grasp. So close, so close.
(Can I suck the marrow in your bones?)
Our friction starting fires, igniting
fireworks under the sun.
Are you Fat Man, or Little Boy?
Am I Hiroshima, or Nagasaki?
We draw conclusions through centuries of history
retrace our steps with our fingers,
memory leading the way as our pieces get left behind.
I am singing to you now, though the song is vulgar;
Will you play? Just one song before the silence
ties a noose 'round our necks
and the trap doors swing open under our feet.
Play before the end,
our end,
just one song,
just once-------------------------------------
Let me touch your soul as deeply as you have played mine.