a gaze as formidable as an eraser to the page
the pretty girl has passed away
so i have a picnic on her grave
from underneath the stone i hear her cries
"eat me, drink me, eat me alive"
(i don't reply)
a spirit soiled inside
a childlike vessel, blonde hair in a tousle
a magnet to the dreary, too young, so weary
but from where does this hatred stem
from where does this hatred stem
from where does this hatred stem?
perhaps there's too much beauty in the world
numbing you senseless
...mortality has certainly lost its luster
19 May 2008