You're a line
and I'm a string,
independent from our hopes
and the things we've come to touch.
We skew off from our reason
and cascade down the face of
a neverending moment
in time.
D'you ever wonder how long
it takes to feel death
crawl up your spine
and through your nose?
Does he sweep out from your tearducts
with a transcending kiss?
Maybe it's just poetry
where you rip the bloody cable
from your white and shaking hand.
'Cause you can't stand the freefall
and it's what makes me
feel
alive.
Down two pills, sweetheart,
and wipe your bloody nose.
In the end,
we're all trying
to stop this
perfect
little
spiral.
