ihochisuru-shi

where were you now? those days that city caught amidst the ever evolving noise. a simultaneous push and pull a world you could never give in a house you could never live in not built yet still abandoned cob webbed and rotting before the first tenants ever graced it halls no candle light on powerless nights no pattering feet of blonde haired daughters no static of televisions left on asleep scattered papers photographs pencils a laptop with a picture of your eye. "The colours not quite right" cob webbed and rotting memories of lives not lived like dreams of things that never happened. the road it never dreams of where

and there you circled me trailing limbs that circumscribe your alchemy upon the sand withering wings under orange sky the sky of fire like those days How do you fly? your bones are bleaching yet you still circle you try to screech dust issues forth you haven't the strength to cough. you climbed as high as you could go so high your wings couldn't take you anymore you climbed the rungs of that black spire's ladder sun drenched bars tore skin from your palms "But what if I fall?" you called down to me from above never knowing I'd swing you back onto the spire and fall to my death before I'd let you fall you muffled your

there was a man pale in blue and white struck amidst the sunlight and the green green grass sleeping chirp-swish shocked from the coma-restraints startled and squinting the birds singing loudly whilst the sun played with pollen beads swish chirp step down feel the cool dirt between his toes. Swish-crack eyes to the ground a square of mold dotted tile lit by flickering flourescence surrounded by the green green grass. stand up, fall down. memories of teeming wires biting electrodes and spitting hypodermic needles crack-drip take another step try to feel the grass between his toes crack spiderweb tile infection gra

long after the paint has divorced itself geriatric from the walls and the dust has eloped with the air still playful as an infant with the intruder's flashlight beams long slender shafts reveal the shadows of old lover's quarrels that left them peeling away footsteps that don't belong crush the decrepit carcasses and skeletons of the beds and blurry mirrors Windows estranged from the cheating wood who cavorted with the long abandoning paint have run away to join the old red bricks languishing in the perpetual growth of the untended green blades this break up has left them wanting clouded looking for purpose where once all

There was a time I'd lean over the edge of the world for you Darkness comforting like the intriguing pin point lights your green eyes haunt my thoughts bleached my hands by holding yours I held your hands guided you with promises of the end this is the end it's a story to behold a book bound in gold it's a sad story book and at once you had me hooked to hold you there high and safe I've kept you alive too long I'm sick of being your demon slayer I lay down my arms give someone else a try you've failed me this time and this was the last I held your hands guided you with promises of the end this is the end Excuses he

Maybe they sit among the corps of corpses in the morgue Perhaps they just sit back chilling in the freezers talking bout our good old friend Richard Mortis or perhaps it was Rigor… I could never remember that boy's name for the life of me Perchance they walk amongst the legions of lesioned deformed in business attire necrosis with power suit scabs talking about the corporate dividends "Whose soul do I gotta sell to get some coffee around here?" Peradventure they pant amongst the pallor of the pale populous Clad in sylphlike syphilis and open weeping eye-sores talking about a cancer weed that's planted in us all Will you walk am

oil rumbling engines the treads crack against the stone larger barrels and their little brothers coddled by their fathers hands this is the decisive moment watch your hands tremble will you face the tanked treads? will you face the barking dogs in olive drab? no no you'll run you'll fucking run teenage drama queen wanting that impossible inseam nails painted black hair tainted blond pink skirt with combat boots razor blades and this teenage scene rebellion can't be canonized revolution won't be televised you have no clue what your fighting for this war is more than you've bargained for no one left to stand their

feel the sudden tearing pull a shadow claw into your collar don't turn your head to look behind your eyes are what its after sliding forward inch by inch making little headway as the strings that bind tear away look ahead but don't float up antigravity is your enemy lead boots chain mail suits don them now or you'll make like Icarus don't look forward don't look back don't stray from the path do not float up do not fall down just keep planted on the ground toil struggle struggle toil its all to make your blood boil oh do I hate this rhyming verse as constricting as a beggars purse I think I'll end these stupid lines