Pieces worn to a blunt end of
And here we sit,
a long drink of closeness.
Helium filled wine that mocks the bedroom tiles.
You and I, we are loose versions of pin straight neck ties.
The present time dripping of paint splattered walls, a chorus of color.
Rendered souls basking in shallow light, and intoxicating prayers of sullen pride.
You and I, we were made to be apart, or is it a part?
And you and I, we were made to leave it alone.
And just like your humble tattoo,
My word vomit will scream loud enough, so that nothing comes out.
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