asklepiades (asklepiades) wrote,
asklepiades
asklepiades

                   different eyes, and the small way out,
we're laying down, when you ask it.
                   a simple sound, here's the falling out,
you've never brought me down, though it's over.

                   different crowd, i'm still calling out,
streets that muffle sound, on a cold day.
                   a breaking out, how you've been till now,
one day you'll settle down, when it's over.



A lego and a killer, a loud obnoxious dream, came so close to waking up the world. The sky is cold the ocean warm, i am the fish that never learned to swim. In winter people wear thick coats, and buildings turn their heaters up.
With the yearly dawn of spring, the thick coats melt into the seas, and of the little yellow birds some learn too sing, others melting into dreams. Since in the nighttime, with warm air rising, their hollow bones are lifted high.
The clouds are made of candy dreams, cool and breezy cotton things. The beach is wet, the seagulls cry, the sealife lives and the sealife dies. And somewhere underneath it all, a sad girl sits and wonders why.
The daylight dims, the twilight stretches, his brow drips and the candles flicker.
And as each simple time before,
the days grow short and life grows long.
With children playing in the sun
with connecting block while they were young.
And in the next day and the next
giving up what's theirs as the progress.
Of taking life and taking love,
daily waking up in hollow homes.
The curtains drawn back drenched in blood, the sheets in knots, the blinds a mess. Trinkets, knicknacks, across the floor, shadows broken and then some more. The faucet dripping the carpet stained; the backboard broken where she lay.
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