Τετάρτη, 10 Ιουλίου 2013

Scar tissue names.











I rest my head against the window
Close my eyes
And think of the fires
Think of the hands on the floor
The sound of dripping
The fear of calendars
And the white hills of heaven.

I think of your softness
And the grinder behind your smile
I think of your need
Your little hand seeking my palm
The red marks it leaves on my skin
And the white hills of heaven.

I think of armored cement
And the brick fingers of our city
I think of fleas and ticks
And clocks and the sun on your pillow
I think of a kiss without a name
And the white hills of heaven.

I think of your wrists
I think of more alcohol
I think of the happy days
How easily they fell
I think red, red thoughts
And of the white hills of heaven.

I race my thoughts through the days
Breaking myself
As I collide with ghosts
But there's no choice, not anymore
I hope this road reaches home
And the white hills of heaven.

I try to end once and for all
Wherever it may be inflicted on you
But it heals too fast
And there's always more, more for you
Another day when the sun shines behind me
And on the white hills of heaven.

I rest my head against the window
Try to remember every whisper
But all I can mutter are her words
"In the end, it's gonna feel
like it never happened."
And a smile to burn all smiles
A smile to burn the whole wide world
And the white hills of heaven.

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