Wednesday, May 12, 2010

BEDOM - On a scale of 1-10, how cliche?

Sunday morning

There is space for one name
On my heart made of stone
Carve something quick
before there's nothing left but bone
I'd wait for eternity
If it didn't seem so long
You glimmered in the distance
But I blinked and you were gone
Tonight the call was so loud
I just lost my head
I walked around so many times
Before stumbling into bed
Slept soundless through the night
Still in my black dress
My stockings had been torn
and my face a smothered mess
Dry retching in the toilet
my hair pulled back tight
Closing my eyes tightly
They'll burn if I see light
There's a church down the road
I can hear the choir bleating
The voices resound in my ear
And start to feel them bleeding
I remember a moment
Smoking on the stairs
I remember dancing
and no one being here
Tight jeaned lead singer
screams in agony
Spits on his shoe
and looks right at me

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