as the age burdens further
puts on airs of elegance but deep down
we know it is fake
those that died young burnt brighter
their ashes scatter to the wind and travel farther I swear
felt like forever was imprisioned in her lips
sweet like honey, red like the blood we crave
now that we wised up to the wait
in queue, fancy ourselves civilized but the truth is burning
in the tip of our tongue, in the particles we gave out unwillingly
now our tongue echoes, our bodies ache, feble spirits and mellower moods
a cripple society I personally condeeem to hell
look away, do not match eye contact and do hold your breath 'till you turn blue
bide us all farewell, the hallow pale conversions of our fucking ideal selves
it is not the loss we pretend to abdicate but the fact we came close
we tasted triumph and then, only then, we caved in.
The day of the Dead
a mercy we envoke
a dance we never show
turning cogs we left out in the pouring rain to rust
on the intended purpose to conceal the fact the candle was melting at both ends
'till the fuel dries out and the oxygen is simply not enough to keep us in line.
a treasure sank a ship
mid course the crew swam
in the sharp dark-ice abyss
re-entry the circle of life
forcefully;
praying would not have changed a thing after all.
an open door casts a terrible visage
effort that came to conceal the unseen
a necessity that buys time and asks curiosity
for a brief reminder the boggyman is most certain
not.in.the.closet
under.your.bed
holding your heartbeat honest and accounted for
matching your breath.
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