quasi_sean

let's lite candles
in celebration
of the perfect goodbye
& make snow angels
in August
while memories die
and cremate the entire
rest of this lie
for me...and you...and all of us

these horrible journals
are written in stone
a deliberate refuge
to die all alone
watch these years turn to minutes
and distorting the tone
of a sympathy cry in the morning

we shall end it in May
when the Spring starts to sour
and maroon is the taste
of that final bath water
I'll drop the knives down the drain
while you're screaming my name

...and i don't understand why you love me.