Must every love float in a person’s mind like a clock?
Must every illusion disintegrate with time?
This clock will retell it’s story every twelve hours
This time it will all be the same, and on and on.
You learn it all over again, and you can taste it the same every time….
…..so this taste was bitter until I forced myself to understand it.
I learned to love it, I encased my coffin in it, that way,
whenever you are ready, we can go.
Dreams are real as the vines wrapped around my face.
You can bear the truth of
You can take my life and live it
It’s my only, and I give it
Even if you grow to be found in the sky like a star
You will never be more than you already are.