This is who we are.
At least who we’ve become.
Those predictions and aspirations thrown by the bedposts.
Our dreams tossed into the drawer.
we’ve swallowed the key.
Gagged and bound are the possibilities of escape.
we crawl into the covers with the nightmare.
Burying our faces under the pillows.
Maybe we won’t exist for ten minutes.
Wake me when this is over.
When i’ve swallowed the knife and we’ve laid waste to my promise.
Resuscitate my lungs afterward.
Though eyes i may close, sleep is never the next act to follow.
And it’s only me and you, you and me.
Ignoring the sirens in the distance.
Play my veins like a guitar as sweat spells the crescendo.
One last time before it’s all over.
And then one last time for old time’s sake.
And after that, one more for new beginnings.
Always for new beginnings.
When this is over, you’ll be a cigarette burning my finger.
Where can i find an ashtray?
