Stream of Thought - #65

Threaded together, clicking like diamonds and

Drowning in molten gold, all torn apart like

Paper dolls, imprisoned in prisms and spawning

Rainbows; let's just make it go away with jars of

Pills and televised thrills,

Is nothing real anymore?

 

Dead roses, snakes shedding their skins, peel off

The silver and there's black beneath it all.

I want to fall into your rivers of fantasy and live

Within your bleeding heart but I can't let me fall

Apart. Just curse and scream your dying desires

Spiral into a world of rods and cones.

 

Cliff edges, high dramatics, 'cause we need to leech

Adrenaline from the collapsing

Lungs of a world with no breathing space, your

Pick-axe ribs spear pieces of my soul and make me

Want to fall in this coffin of sticks and stones and

Broken bones.

 

The End

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