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You rest
on the stairs
head thrown back onto outstretched arm
And if I hadn't killed you myself,
hadn't stepped in the blood that fills your shoes
and sops your hem...
Well, if I hadn't we wouldn't be here
like this now, would we?
And so I sit alongside you
Gazing up at the ceiling with eyes as alive
as yours are dead
and I wonder
who shall fill my shoes when it's my turn
to rest?
on the stairs
head thrown back onto outstretched arm
And if I hadn't killed you myself,
hadn't stepped in the blood that fills your shoes
and sops your hem...
Well, if I hadn't we wouldn't be here
like this now, would we?
And so I sit alongside you
Gazing up at the ceiling with eyes as alive
as yours are dead
and I wonder
who shall fill my shoes when it's my turn
to rest?
Author!
Date: 2011-04-02 11:24 pm (UTC)From: (Anonymous)Re: Author!
Date: 2011-04-03 12:09 am (UTC)From: