LittleBlackBird79

I try to make do with this carcass I am, I drag it along decomposing slab of meat, even the blood is drained. Now prostrate. Statue carved monochrome and postmodern bullshit. In front of city attic plants and mazes, branches cry yellow leaves that last year didn't even want to touch. Compared to me, they must seem so alive. "I should have been a pair of claws" throw me in the ocean at least it's dark and silent enough, my cigarette breath won't pollute anyone's dreams down here No one will touch the minutes unmoving, life-alone, yeah. Like it's anything I've lived Victim of my own veins, just spilling vapours that would on

The Sky had a strange way of making you fall in love with it. Especially when you saw it in your sleep. It made you want to wake up. It would float there, filling the world with something it longed for, something it needed, something the wind sung for, something everyone saw. Without eyes, without knowing. Sky. With or without clouds. A painting God must have left, unfinished, before he went away. I saw it. Behind trees, houses, land, dreams. It was always there, even when it wasn't. I saw what I wanted. Shapeless nothing, escaping contour, a quick sketch of the unknown. I made a cloud into a bird. Bird-shaped hope, that lost it's way,