Rotted hands grasp for the light, the only thing left after the last star
fades. And I sink and I think maybe
Amethyst
And I collapse and I feel
stardust
catch my eyes and mold them to tombs of rainbows and rotted spells;
the hands are the last to go and we write so as not to speak the words...
They are the last to go and the first to be forgotten. The wings
and the waves, catch my breath and tangle it in his hair and mend the
edges of the souls tattered; blend the tears with the faces behind the
rain and seal the end with a kiss, a lover like sin; the lady fingers, the
constricting feathers, dolls' eyes and nevermore as the broken promises fade
to make new crowns of thorns for the soft white starglow
babies. The child in you weeps and nevermore, so cut out the eyes and
bask in the blood-dusted skies and ruby red stained the hourglasses;
don't forget the wishes failed, the souls tattered, crimson divine and
jewel smiles, killed the wires and lit the candles, nodding half-sleep
traced with their soft skin and rosaries; delicate smears of emerald
lights and nevermore
none of this...
...none of this