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Like songs to you 2:12 a.m. 2006-04-08 The faint glow of your transgressions smeared across mirrored surfaces tracing the tremors of effigies and the frailty of progress and determination to just be happy. Ariel scapes that stretch vast gray eternities over entities and portraits envision a tapestry woven as canvas to stencil in our sins and reflect upon a void of summation of hurt. Tear drops cascade rainswept falling diversionary markers to retract the attention drawn to that crippling symphony of deprivation in your eyes; shuddering nights protracted in derivative glances and you've been squeezing eyes shut to dreams. Those glimpses of self lurking luminscent behind street corners bathed in streetlights and shallow faints of shooting stars there was no trace of self in the mirror this morning. And you've played the scribe dictating significance to soul like playwright and you're starting to falter in the realization that contrived strokes of a pen do nothign to alter the shape of your insides and your fingers are left stained inkblack and there is nothing to wash away the specks of falsified lifestories that fleck your eyes in perfect shades of amber and every night the guilt sets in. Turning those eyes starward in desperation the rainfall that reflects your sobs does nothing to cast this story in pristine clear purity and every night you wonder why. Scattered mirrors in shards to escape and the source of the lacerations falters on your windowsill like your soul is drifting further and further away. This has got to stop before our hearts fly bird free across night skies dedicated to the retelling of accounts of all the things we've lost and done wrong. This has got to stop or else. back & forth |