There I was, lying naked, breathless and cold, almost impossible to ignore.
Confettied with scars, bruises and a side of a coward in a fetal position.
Shifting the weights, from one eye to the next, nothing left to trust.
Until the darkness swept over the street lights, fading like moths in daylight,
I felt the inner parts of my embarrasment falling faster then my shell turning to dust.

Vengance came with a side order of memory loss and an imparied judgement,
like two strangers combating for the rights to an argument, never waivering,
The mumbling silence of fear crept inside my ears, and cries of desperations tip-toed away.
The skin behind the face became molded with vindication, eyes withered with dispair,
it was you being chased by a lion, it was you being hunted in the hills.

Days lull by like numbers inside an alphabet, a passage to a stranger place so unnoticed.
the writings on the walls became a road map, some kind of trigger for tracing steps.
Pencil shavings became fire starters, like a spark, like an instant reminder of who I was,
concussed inside a shell, drillion holes made from letters,  signed and delivered with punctuation.

This generation of you and I, break open this hollow shell,
equiped with words, sharp as weapons, explosive like dynamite,
Dear princess, my cinderella, are we over being devoured?
Through with digestion, this dissection, ripping apart the wounds,
calling me prince charming, your coward, a plethura of incompetence.

This future is reading a lot like a romance novel, without the love criteria,
our bodies lie next to one another, wearing the disguise of better thoughts,
now we lie together like oceans and a beach, tidal waves crashing between us,
Suck the life out of my irrelevance, I know you caught us fucking in the shower,
your sister was a lot of things, the better part of not being you is superior to none.

Crowd this exposure with unrelenting dispositions,
feel trapped inside a fly trap, venus never felt this far away,
she felt like a flower, pedals softer than the blue desert sky,
now with the drapes closed, lying naked beneath these heartless stars,
manipulate this mind of yours, because I'll always be the worst.

The air wrapped around this silence is colder,
then the air from the cellar, where all the secrets are held.
I often wonder what you planned to have done,
with the millions of miles that was taken from me.

I drifted for most of the years under the laws of your gravity,
between the affinity of love and the most vengeful parts of lust.
The sparks of this affection became fringed, dried up apathy,
left wondering to whom steers this vessel into the uknown.

Present tense, looking beyond the colors of the horizon,
from the calamity of us, comes life, from where does it come?
We recess to the space in the darkest corners of our mouths,
where words for hostility become drained by the rising sun.

Space travels further between the reaches of our fingertips,
The vanity, self-loathing inequality of your speechless tongue,
inhaling the worst part of your past without taking blame,
lingering in the ruthless parts of your most damned humility.

Never once did I waiver from the shape of the person inside this body,
I change the foundation and the color, but there's still this smile.
Years before you knew me then, you wouldn't recognize this skin,
I guess the crows feet all but abandoned from the swell of these eyes.

Count the lines, like the rings of a tree and add up these old knees,
I beleive I'm still swimming beneath the sea,
The mermaids touched the sand and dried up the bottom half,
disillusioned by the wind, belly-flopped into the vast uknown.

We make-up make-beleive stories making-fun of made-up monsters,
Youth took sail on the wind, and here we are behaving like animals,
If we crab walked this planet, we'd be foreve staring at the stars,
Perfect display of affections, grown weary of ever being cannibals.

Life takes shape and we're carrying this copious amount of time,
doing things we've never done before, breaking the cages of thirst,
we come ashore from the fantasy and cross the forbidden line,
and in our journals we write this story as if we came first.

Casted like shadows, this wind to sail our kites,
blown over like skeletons, the bare knuckles, these tiny bones,
Rich in thought, poor in pockets, gold our scale swaying overboard,
take with us this pale departure of stranger that lives stranded inside us.

Tundra, the territory was a cavern of secrets, far from home,
but far from home we stood like novelists, we were just so happy,
though far from home, we read like hero's, with trials and errors.
this bookend, end table, coffee stand life was vaguely touched,
like dirtbags, the begging bums, we smeared this life on our sleeves.

Planted like statues for recreation, startled and abused by graces of nature,
there were rewards and vague similarities, about succumbing to something more,
one life at a time, with the backs of labor, with eyes tattooed to the horizon,
nestled like baby birds, America our recluse to the stubborn child.