The bow arches back
the back arches, a bridge to allow passage
and wonderment through which to see the waters
that tumble and roll as thunder calls accros

i will swim as far as i need to,
but i won't sing again
with or without the intentions that acccompany
anarchy.

it's a romantic notion as idea hands cup wishful jaws

Time has come unstuick, unstuck
and sautners vaguely forwards in front of me
while i follow, unsure
and unknowing of the steps it takes
In a city I like to pretend I know

talk talk
oh, how pale you looked leaving the examination room
there's a sword over your head, the bell is tolling doom
all because you didn't do what they expected of you.

and i am sick, i am sick
i can feel it in my lips
and in my fists, as they unclench
and let the rest fall to the floor
i don't want this anymore
it's a burden and it's heavy

i would dance with you
even if you wouldn't dance
and the room spun and our feet couldn't quite fix themselves to the floor

we tottered in too-high shoes on a shiny linoleum floor,

well, my love, where did you go?
and afterwards you ran on home,
when you saw what you couldn't see,
and your shadow only fit me

and i think we can still sew it back to you, if you want me to

well i wish wish wish
but i won't waste my words,

so instead i look outside to a street rapt in r.e.m.
where even my hallway is still,
and i swim within nostalgia

fabric lolls around my knees
as caffeine-free tea assaults my senses
and a clack clack clack of lights as they appear and swim
the door is locked, i am seated on my throne

alien life forms, above
the sea of boiling creation and repeptition forming underneath them
they nod their heads and agree with my self-loathing

smash
oh good god
everything, all the bones in all the stories
have been crushed under the pressure
a half-sideways glance as you turn to leave
and as the night eats your form

Would you believe me if I told you that there's something on the breeze?
The trees have started fucking and it's moving me to tears

I couldn't find you when I went looking
I couldn't see anything but anger in your place
Hot words that are falling off your tongue
Like the saddest kids are falling off bridges.

Who would win, if eagle woman and wolf man fought?
The eagle lays slain, killed by a blunt existentialist blow to the head
leaving us, the poisonned hatchlings to relearn Macbeth

I down another one, just enough to make my lips feel numb
feel a beast coiled in my gut
and remember you on the tip of my tongue