Clouds are a mood-based filter filtering out the sadness~ that touch of madness in my drunken heart † Take your snapshot now and run a lens across the memory of bruises † over my ink-stained skin † I was a kind of gentle the moon could envy softly tracing my love † over every crack on your broken chest † I poured the tears I had into the bottomless pit of your greedy soul filled it with bleeding hands despite my fear of your fists † and now when the moon sighs ...
I rest my eyes beneath the crescent moon I have no home, no love, no god above but the gentle croon of a dead mother in the haunted memories from my youth she pulls down the stars and makes me smile all the while they whispered,
Why oh why am I a mess of blood? I tried to find my home in lust in pain and anger and reckless danger strangers who reeked of plastic~ tragic beasts of synthetic words
Some things I wonít forgive like the way I hurt when I remember the hurt I made worse the day...
Hold on to the voices Iíve drowned out the time I see you staring oh, beautiful beast
I run my fingers down your perfection a winterís coat dusted in snow I canít feel the cold past this ethereal form but there is awe in my reflection a dawning of light in eyes of earth hands of water~ translucence