wishxfulthinker
10/26/04, 02:52 AM
It's the sound of teeth hitting my stomach
Though muted from the gasp like a gun cock
Firing blood in layers like spilled oil
That fills the shallows of the side-walk
It's the scent of gasoline in my pores
The pours, now a tainted purple collage
A make-shift noose from the sleds of '97
Swaying in the dim of my silent garage
It's the taste of salt as it sweeps my lungs
No fingerprints can be left in the wake
Just a brief synchronize of bubbles
That rise from the body in the lake
It's these thoughts that are not of an ending
But an entire mental new start
If we perish from only the mind
We renew our mental heart
If we fall before we get up
If we choke before we breathe
If we sink before we swim
If we die to learn to believe
Though muted from the gasp like a gun cock
Firing blood in layers like spilled oil
That fills the shallows of the side-walk
It's the scent of gasoline in my pores
The pours, now a tainted purple collage
A make-shift noose from the sleds of '97
Swaying in the dim of my silent garage
It's the taste of salt as it sweeps my lungs
No fingerprints can be left in the wake
Just a brief synchronize of bubbles
That rise from the body in the lake
It's these thoughts that are not of an ending
But an entire mental new start
If we perish from only the mind
We renew our mental heart
If we fall before we get up
If we choke before we breathe
If we sink before we swim
If we die to learn to believe