righteousjenn

Waltz around the room, with a glaze in your stare.
In your tuxedo suit.
I'll give it a name.
Lower defenses.
I'll lower the casket.
Open the door.
Open the grave.
Murder.

You find yourself helpless.
Christ is not a fashion,
fleeting away. fashion...

He laid emeralds in her eyes,
oh but I'd already tried.
a bracelet made of gold and scarlet thread around her wrist.
and everything was wrong so we sang sentimental songs.
Oh how seldom we belong but
how elegant our kiss. and we painted crooked lies
but we danced in perfect time to a love so much refined,
weknow not what it is until like a dullen wine we pour
into a grief we know before
but it's never quite like this. never quite like this.
All I know now is regret, it follows like a silhouette
along the cobblestone behind me,
but has nothing to say except to innocently ask,
a voice as delicate as glass,
"Do you see me when we pass?"
but I continue on my way.