as I turned my skin to stone,
to run away from life
lichen crepped onto me
soft moss covered
protected me from the cold inside
I am a tombstone now, standing proud
my words I can't unsay,
they're written in stone now
Jane came to visit once
propably by accident
read the words
like they weren't written by her
the words are old
cracks in the stone fill with moss and lichen
until they die next season
from my legs deep underneath the earth
I'm rooting for you
my forehead carved open
no blood
only dust from the stones
and maybe from stars
but more likely from bones
all the caskets in the deep underground intertwine
we share our lives
but parts of mine are too heavy
and too precious for me to just lay out
my dream is to see you eat an apple in the corner of my eye
apple of my eye
and when you'd like to sleep
I'd just close my lids
apple of my eye
fill yourself with yourself
feed in and feed back
with an apple in the morning
what ain't torn yet
now is tearing
I closed the tear deep within
and while it's still open
it's beneath my skin
looking back
I miss your wings
I remember when I read
secret writings in your bones
they were like an enchantment
what I read wrote itself into my core
words beneath the skin
too precious
to leave them open
to questionable weather
not made to fly
but to gallop
stepped into a life
and stepped right out of
I haven't had the chance to smell the roses
before they got cut
but dear
you might want to put them in water at least
they might survive,
even a minutemore of lifetime
is worth
dry the petals
I do the same
perserve the memories of happiness
while we're still sane
my happiness
your happiness
they might've intertwined in some time
they might not have
while loneliness might've been all we needed
to dance by ourselves
but
I still felt the thread
of being sole
in the red sand
the sole thread
while we didn't connect
it had 2 ends
both in our hands
or just stuck to us somewhere
no resistance, this thread is long
didn't realize it was torn
until I was told
should I let go?
now I feel like a fool
a torned thread in my hand...how long?
how did I not notice that?
what a fool
this lone thread would just slow me down
everyone would say
I sew it into my flesh
It's my vessel now
helps my blood to travel
unravel the minds chapters
I never leave someone of importance out
while you were here
preserved
within me
a perfect image you can find
you live in here
the thread
a torn chunk from it might be stuck
in your clothes, in your hair
and it breathes
just like it does
within me
the thread lives
sometimes it sqeezes my intenstines
until I throw up blood and mucus
painful, I feel like my eyes will pop out
I feel like my heart will stop
I feel like I have no place to breath
but sometimes it cleanses
somethings need to go out
others need to stay in
oftentimes I find myself saying
I knew I saw you in those words
cause no image can describe you
quite like a sentence or a paragraph
or a chapter
and all the words I kept here
foolishly buried
I wore you when I was else
...such a gentle soul
feels good around my fingers
but the more it wrapped, the more I stroke
It tore
it may have broke...
I enjoyed it well too much
and the torn ends from the broken fabric
tore my skin with touch
while it was pleasant at first
the droplet of our bonds
filled up a whole new thirst
but to live anew
we needed to dry our throats
of us 1st
I wish I could say it in more words
but I buried them
maybe when I go
they can be resurrected
until then
I'll find some time to occasionally visit them
as you should with the dead
and say some comforting words over them
it wasn't that bad
I'm glad you existed
I saw you choose the black potion
colored your lips with tart
you swalloved up the night
and kissed dreams on their foreheads
one last goodnight
In the morning dew
as they came, they went
hope to be so light one day as well
untill then
ride well Jane, ride well
