Every night we scream in perfect harmony,
the poison words slip from your lips to mine,
and each kiss brings us closer to freedom;
this grotesque requiem we write, word for word,
on the verge of sanity; that's what makes it so painful.
Every night you, my reflection, remind me,
these tattered clothes are no longer fashionable,
nor this rusted lock without a key;
At the beginning I assumed we were merely forsaken,
but I think ignored may be closer to the truth.
We aren't so isolated that our cries aren't heard,
and yet not a single query is raised
in the direction of our dilapidated hell.
Every night I slip into displaced fantasies,
lying on my side to slightly escape the pain,
and watching one more bruise blossom on your skin;
I know you're watching mine as well,
less able to slip into dreaming delusions,
taking comfort in the fact that I share your pain.
maybe this loathing was the remedy all along,
either that, or the disease has spread to my mind.
If you would only close the door when you leave.
Gold trophy winner
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