robotfuckface

wake up to a smear of gray
the world's in black and white today
or perhaps my eyes are broken from this crying

wake up to the dark and snow
to seventy degrees below
the sun is just too sad to bother trying

wake up or not wake at all
lie in bed, within the thrall
of the agony of your affection's dying

nothing's ever hurt like this before.

the snow was ashes falling down
the barren, cold, symbolic ground
and every broken thing i saw:
a metaphor

it's hard to walk on legs so thin
on fire, twisted, caving in
i stumble, mumble, fall, and scrape
through another pointless day
without you at the end of it

why bother having a home
if she isn't there to warm it?

if i could be her bandages
if i could be the bed she lies in weeping
if i could be some medicine
perhaps i'd be worth keeping

if i could be the missing key
that map she needs to find some peace
the star that gives her light to see
perhaps she would be keeping me