The Art of Life Wrapped in a Ziplock Baggy .

  I watched as the pieces of his eyes
  Fell apart,
and as the sun set under a broken sky,
(Littered with shooting stars;
  Shooting bullets through my veins-
And Littered with broken hearts;
  recycled with trashcans and boulevards.)

Daisy Chains
  Wrote Love on my heart,
And tied together the iridescence
of chalk drawings in my memories.

  One step,
  Two step,
  Three step,

  Four.
(Hopping on the hopscotch board;
            the weight of my heart;
Never felt so right.)

The weeds were blossoming
On the edges of my pictures,
And every time I pulled at the
  Cracking roots
They burst into Gardens of Dead dreams.

Tire swings were a lost cause,
Replaced with the intensity
  of sheet metals
  And disease filled kisses

  And Aches
  And Pains.







We're walking down a path,
Created of caved in lungs,
Unable to breathe and support
Anything Anymore.
Unable to create Anymore.
  (Because every time you took a breath, Darling,
    Your air was art.
    Your air was a creation.)

And when we created our life,
  It changed everything.
Like the change we had in our
  Pockets,
(Full of clovers;;;;
  Ashes, Ashes,
-We all fall down.-)

And the London Bridge was
Screaming
  As the people were crushed with lies
  That lit up in flames against the oil in their lipstick. 

Against the oil in their blood.
Separating faith and revenge,
  (Even though in reality it isn't a two way street,
  It's a blend of colors,
  Melting on a canvas - Bleeding through shades of rainbow
  and misconceptions
      of the blotches from heart beats.)


I'm painting hearts on the tiles
  in my bathroom,
  lining my throat,
And I'm reminding myself that
  (They'll always be cold.)
Press your face against them -
  Can you feel the chills?

I'm running through dust storms
of "I love You's"
  And I'm trying to find my way out of the
Mass Hysteria 
  Etching the path,
  Etching my path,
(Of Broken Words.)


The thoughts were put to rest
Like an Autumn's breeze,
And you changed like the seasons do,
  Into a cold December
  And a fallen rain.

My skin melted against your pores
As my tears dried up against your cheek bones,
(The color of death)
And I could only decide between
The lesser of Two Evils.



  It was a chase for
  Perfection,
  Bone Structure,
 
  A History engraved on your shoulders.

  The Air in your lungs was dead.
  The words in your mouth were dead.
    & The butterflies in your stomach were dead. 


I think my name in your memories was Dead, too.

That's why I feel my chest inhale still,
That's why I feel oxygen intensifying,
  And burying itself in my system…
  (Still.)

Because, well, Love ---


You spared me.