It slides across the desk at an imaginary angle
And flows like a river to a climax point
At which it hurts to watch it fall silently to the ground
It stains the floor on which my ice cold memories lay
In the form of a physical remembrance of love
With stone cold eyes, her head falls to her neck
Her lifeless pupils staring in a scream at quickening breaths
As I sit and watch her body laying under my desk
My main supply of life is the last thing turning to charcoal black
As I grab her frozen hand and place it in mine
It levels out the heat that's rising
In the midst of land and time
She lies there, alive inside my mind
With all restrictions left behind
And as I touch her, she fitted me into her life
Like a categorised smile.
And now she lies lifeless under my feet
Haunting my movements and scaring my dreams
And the liquid still falls like a teen to their death
From the highest of heights when there's nothing else left.
And as it reaches its last moments together
The point where potential and kinetic are in comparison
It looks up at me where it's spent each dying second
Wishing for something more real than heaven
And then a slight pause and time stands still
And we see this from my love's dead point of view
She reaches out with the reapers own hand
And stops it before it is going to land.
With that she rises, her halo is rust,
And screams out so terrible and falls down to dust.
The drop emerges from the ashes of lust
And falls to the floor and diffuses into the earth's core
To be blood just once more.
And still the life pours from the centre of gore
Until the heart runs dry and the pathways are white
And then we will feel we've won the fight.
Weak. Imperfect. Exposed. Adolescent.
Retained in entrapment and bleeding transparent.
We don't seem to realise our feelings don't matter
They just don't flatter our minds and our manners.
And still the blood drips from invisible angles.