Eyes like black-holes
show me stains of
blood. It's always blood
like some royal slaughter
reflected in king's tower.
Birds and flies all sit,
with me in the lemon tree,
daydreaming of cities
and making it big
someday.
They're only fragments,
pieces of life, and who knows?
Am I even alive?
But I lived. Remember I did.
Trying to smile,
when my old arms
grew too tired, trying
to rock my child to sleep
with false pretences
of love, and peace.
The phone chimes
ten times
but it lost all its rings
when the aliens got me,
and the symphony
would no longer sing.
I see nature splashes
when the light is just right,
and when the bomb drops
an umbrella will
be all the protection
I need.
I'll make people feel
like me, outside the door,
and stretch out my arms
with the branches
of my day-dreaming tree.
To see the world
any other way
is watching pornography.
You look through
the eyes of a girl
your eyes never see.
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