I'm choosing my muse, the one I’m ready to abuse.
And running mad confused left me staring straight at you.
Accusing my shoes for the heart break that ensues.
And beating in a bruise for the hope that renews.
Dreaming of sleep,
but your scent stains my sheets,
And I’m trying to leave,
but your kiss makes me weak.
It competes with the grief of my downfall,
repeat.
And holding you in dreams,
finding time to delete.
Its defeat to discrete to be regarded as complete.
Staring at my feet and the concrete that they meet.
chalk up one more victory for trying to pretend.
it’s a shadow fading fast of what we all want to defend
In the end we'll make amends, and pour sand in our sheets,
To take us to that beach so we can finally fall asleep.
It's not that our dreams are haunted by our memories,
but that morning light is blaring
And it's breaking our integrity.
First draft, you'll see this again
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1 comment:
"dreaming of sleep, but your scent stains my sheets"
beautiful..
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