(this is not quite finished....i'm not satisfied with the ending)
And I don’t remember her name when she stood near you
When she wore your skin in the cold blood of December
I only remember the monochrome song of our saturated history
Weaving a disaster
Like vultures tearing apart warm flesh under the desert sun
And I don’t see glory through your eyes
When I look back into her cold steel heart
Just rust and tarnished brass
Bones tangled around stories of fairytales gone wrong
But we’re more sophisticated than that now.
With our nano-machines running programs
Of pure cut language.
Words rolling around on your tongue
Scattering into the cracks of the wooden floor
And I don’t remember her name
When she cut you into tiny pieces with sterling silver cutlery
Her Victorian eyes burning holes through your overcoat
Revealing cold, un-oiled machinery
Do you dream them too?
But I like pretending we’re more sophisticated than that now.
Our technology has become more intricate
Our emotions, more complex
But that raw feeling I get in my gut when your inside her,
Inside me.
That horrible taste in my mouth when her words reach your ears
Makes me crumble
Makes me wish it weren’t too late to be someone else
“I love you” feels hollow when spoken through her poison lips
That haunting memory that I was someone before I was her
Is just out of my peripheral vision
I can almost reach out and touch it in my dreams….
Almost.
Do you dream them too?
© 2007 bazil zerinsky (verablue)
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