You've come a long ways
to say and do the little things
to hurt me.
And I don't know what's worst,
that with the absent of your light,
you have become so good at hurting others
or that in your lightness,
everyone is blind to see
the little things that
continues to hurt you inside.
But it's all in your head I said,
there's nowhere else to start but in rotten fields, do you know what it means to butcher off every limb of your dreams, chasing and being chased by the hours and the monsters who eats time in your dark little heart?
To revel in the blood and sorrows of the people that left you behind? I am use to dreaming while burning up like pine trees scorched from the world, surrounded by revolving doors that go nowhere, just empty wastelands where you have become the perfect one.
The night horse comes and goes with the wind,
I am patiently waiting and listening
for the hooves and shadows against
the moonlit hills at night.
I'm always running towards
and away from you in the dark,
always looking for love in the most inhospitable places in my heart, twirling around
like we use to do as children to see who falls first to the ground.
But when I see a sliver of you
I smile beyond the lifetime of nightmares and troubles down the twisting road of despair
and always hoping to see you again.
"All the bad things in your world,
it's all in your head at night.
This lifetime of pain will end when you
decide to wake up with the sun"
