Brown black hair blown asunder
amidst the crimson pool
and patches of your memory
in black and bloody rivulets
running down the sofa
That tacky, funny sofa
that always made you laugh
Where we sat
and wrote our songs,
and drank coffee, black and hot.
The very funny sofa where you perched,
wrote those final words
Where you pulled a foolish trigger
and took your final breath
The prescribed medication
to remedy
your life
“The stars began to burn through the sheets of clouds, and there was a new voice which you slowly recognized as your own.” -M. Oliver
Well-Water Song
Well-Water song
Partially cold, partially stable
hold my hand as long your able
kisses blue on bitter faces
secret thoughts in hidden places
heavy lids and fragile lips
watch the glass, the water tips
worlds a' turning, child you know
hold on tight or off you'll go
wrap wings tight round little bones
cold like sea swept shoreline stones
Water in the well my dear
Is never coming up I fear
Dreams are nothing, till their dreamt
float on by, your time
is spent
Partially cold, partially stable
hold my hand as long your able
kisses blue on bitter faces
secret thoughts in hidden places
heavy lids and fragile lips
watch the glass, the water tips
worlds a' turning, child you know
hold on tight or off you'll go
wrap wings tight round little bones
cold like sea swept shoreline stones
Water in the well my dear
Is never coming up I fear
Dreams are nothing, till their dreamt
float on by, your time
is spent
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