a life that wouldnt be...

Here upon the mattress

Lies the remains

Of a life that wouldn’t be

There, upon the sheets

You can smell the sickness

Of both you and me

The sunlight’s pasty gloom

Settled in this tiny room

It came and stroked your lashes

And coaxed you into submission

We replace the depths of our souls

With things we know to be wrong

To escape our own grief

We run and hide

From those who seek

We wait for God knows what

For that life to come alive

But we’ve been waiting for a while

And I see those eyes

Swimming restlessly

With both our lies

Upon this shrine, upon this mantle

We’ve built a holy place

We exalt and pray

The things that remain

Of the hallowed day

We loosen ourselves

From those filthy sheets

We let go of the memories

And let the sickness in

The nights come plunging in

Daggers and swords

For the beating hearts

Still hanging feebly from our cut up parts