Before this is Over

by **bright_star** » Tue Feb 09, 2016 11:49 am

I don't really care anymore about the dark secrets or shadows in our past
the slow cars or the fast rides, the crash of another suicide
our sex is aged in painted drama, erotic episodes of dark defiance
deviant dreams, painted your kisses in this poetry's cherry red stain
glossed over these memories of Julia Lorraine, the twisted ivy grows, the cracks
in the corner of the window of that abandoned house on the mountain
where she fell in love with the past of a ghost. a snow angel's eyelashes
an escape or just a heart break away, one more breath
wash away the path to yesterday's tomorrow
when I was thoughtless and fearless as the years of spring
I woke up with an armband on my wrist, dreamed of his sorrows
revenge and histories repeated never
ending, tried to cover up my scars by meaning something
anything, to anyone, to matter as much as the whispering voices
of the the ghostly angels in my mind
the footsteps I followed behind
the upside down waterfalls
I don't really care anymore about your ex-wife, the girl you raped
the curse you broke, the fears you faced, the taste of your denial
the knife you threw into the river, the child you sacrificed,
a beast you wouldn't shelter, the woman you couldn't remember
or your commitments, your alcoholic anger, or those predictions of
nothing, absent of the sadistic riddle of danger

the questioning, I don't really know
about their plans, the cities full of dust, and I am choking or am I joking
I may have seen the train coming down the tracks
I was almost caught between worlds but i never give up
only cowards give up

I've never had a heart attack, I hallucinated your love in a drug induced coma
Before the rain fell backwards, and the stories burnt an ember, the rogue of September
Before Alice had lunch with the Mad Hatter, and followed the white rabbit to nowhere
or was painted red by the queen of false starts, and lost her golden stars
When Cupid thought he heard me sighing,

but inside I was cold and crying
Black as coal, black as charcoal, as if it mattered at all
that the dead are staring, that the dead are staring right into my soul
they keep watching me and I can't say a word at all
no I am just as hellishly quiet as they appear to be
on the other side of this unreasonable unreality
unpredictable fantastically unreal
there was nothing
in the end
but a wall made from the
sleeping dust of my dream
falling
falling
down.

Before this is Over

Before this is Over

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