Preferred Band/Artist: BlackByrd
I have this pulse ... This rhythm inside me. This needs to be Shared and cater for those without. It is the need to live, to Breathe every second, to devour the sacred, to eat the earth And love the touch of that which means nothing to naked Eyes. To see the beauty of holiness in things so very rare as An honest embrace or an ironic stare that might embalm your Heart and lay your spirit bare.
Happiness cannot truly be lived unless it is shared. And I look At my prettiness in the mirror.
It's all Fear and darkness.
Death and loathing.
It's because you told me you cared.
That shadow in the mirror ...
It's the truth that comes from the underlying lies we shared.
If I could still feel you ...
Need you like a breath, a stare
If I could still feel your release within
If I could get into your skin and escape into the darkness of that wishful negation that was our Everything
If I could release you and let it all
Begin as if anew,our love was stealing the waves that crashed My forehead alight with the knowledge you bring of Questioning the shadows and begging longing for a digging of Deeper things speaking as if I could
Begin to save you.
As if to lose myself in the essence of our innocence as that is How we loved to be crashing lovers Exploring the rainbows of Fireworks
Ready to commit to nothing but tearing apart
That which was unknown to us then that we know now too Late was love.
Do I dare this hollow journey, with so few fruits of despair for Those who declare so easily that it is all a great impotence of Serendipity of our communal minds. This rushing of beats, Alliteration of hands on skin, skin on hands, this nothingness Where touch has lost it's most important symbolism and we All become sacred whores gushing on about not much more Than being able to wear feathers.
All up in a rustle.

Teken in op LitNet se gratis weeklikse nuusbrief. | Sign up for LitNet's free weekly newsletter.

