THIS IS NOT POETRY

Thursday, July 31, 2014

Crashing

She's got no use for dreams or wistful thinking
You can't bring back the dead with only backward glances
She lives in slow motion
She lives for yesterday
And all the shattered futures
Crushed by one mistake

But he will not move again
What did this prove again?

Emotions dissolve on the back of her tongue
Her lips are chapped and broken crying "dead religion"
And she walks on a razor blade
Hanging over nothing
Broken hearts still beat
When they've been robbed of something
Like a love song

She lives to break the glass in picture frames
Burning the photographs
To take their lives back
And she engraves her own gospels on her arms
Shuts off the alarms
Alarms
Alarms

But he will not move again
What did this prove again?

Emotions dissolve on the back of her tongue
Her wrists are scarred and broken from a dead religion
And she walks on a razor blade
Hanging over nothing
Broken hearts still beat
When they've been robbed of something like a
Love song

Something in her dreams before the darkness comes again
Collecting the tears from a split second decision
Wiping out the stop lights
In her blurry vision
But the broken glass is flying 
And she is lying on the concrete 
Again

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