on a closed toilet with hands to the head
thinking, breathing, wondering
light on my feet, yet heavy in the air
the words and west, never more perfect
thunder upon daze, living in south these days
how the ravaging smeared blood in ways i never understood
i reflect and remain in the past
just us two and how we lied in the grass
i had, but now gone and seemingly bent on things like a black swan
the way you laid your head and said those things you said
in days where you twirled my hair and scratched my chest
the way i think of west and streets of venice
i sleep with a tune, lust to dream without you
yet the air coincides with my dreams and you’re alive suddenly
the dead grass arrives, but never in time
days when they rolled the body past and i held my phone like it was a raft
i’ve died a thousand times, but september took like i never knew
the sky was you, the high of my night was your scent
i sat hell bent on a crime of a thousand lifetimes
my soul will coexist forever and our time will always understand
the way we held hands and how i smiled to the view of you
i knew, i know and the blue will always evoke
regardless the smoke and mist, i always knew your cloak
eventually the clock strikes midnight and our time will’ve had its time
the mist, as you know, will clear for you and i
and last words you’ll hear, “you’ll always be mine”