I know who you are

The orchestra plays the score of deaths rehearsal,
Mental detonation
The back of my mouth tastes of salt from virgin tears,
An image looms under my mind's surface, broken, undiluted,
Shying away from fractured pillars of time

Hoarding fallen dreams by the hanging tree rope swings,
The sun the colour of nicotine stained fingers,
Blood rolls deep like the sap of the lacquer tree,
Slick varnish reflection
As a child dragged through a cruel dawn,

I hear the sounds from the heavens, nepenthes,
I like the way you kill my pain,
The soul can feel, when surrounded with darkness
Though have I mellowed to that tender light,

Mother's eyes in all their silence
My father's frail good gestures
The sky's indigo watercolour texture

Those flowers that died
With those that have survived,
Will have to pay with their beauty the ultimate price,
Though you tore the veins from this flower
And tied them in a over hand blood knot

The faith in my childhood shattered like a tainted antique mirror,
A thousand sharp reflections staring back at me,
Which one do I pick, which one do I choose,
Picking at shards of glass I cut myself praying on the idea of you,

A clowns makeup caught in a rainstorm,
Leaving multicoloured puddles,
Where I trace my finger distorting identity,
A classic single ended spray of
Lilies, eustoma, and gladioli,
With a drop of a white rose.