Our Calamity

Stop dreaming as if death itself wasn't dying
You are falling in love with the wrong words

Can't you feel it, chilling your bones?
I'm twisting every sound
delicately wrapping you
in a soft blanket of ecstasy

I melt your marrow
and disintegrate your every move
until I have you nestled tight
in a bed of fragilely made comfort
and faulty affections

My voice vibrates
in the walls of your eyelids
with intricate lies,
I have so carefully weaved into you

Because dreamers always fall
and wishful thinkers never gain.