It’s all been done before

Coffee and roses beaming through
cracked walls of ivy and stone.

Like wine glasses emptying slowly
bleeding into the floor.

Give me a glass, give me neon.
Give me sultry desire wrapped up in glitter.

Burnt out cars, window tainted sour
driving into the midnight sunset.

Trust me when I say, stay away from the moors,
all that lays there are death and lonely skeletons

Children who won’t grow up,
they lay lost, oh please give me hope.

Smelling coffee and roses,
singing lost stories.

just let it go

I don’t hold grudges,
not now, not ever.

if someone shows me how little I mean to them;
I just stop caring.
They leave my mind
forbidding myself
to even utter their name in the remote parts of my subconscious.
But it’s not real.
Its not sustainable
and one day very soon
the flood gates will open

and it will crush me.

Don’t Say Anything

Translucent minds and hazy nights,
why did you wake up next to me?

You then stayed, kissed my skin,
why did you leave the very next day?

Screaming in silent through the years,
ghosts of ghosts,
sinking to the ocean floor.

You didn’t show up again.
Heart in hand,
kissed me in a dream
and then I made you leave.

Transparent minds and clear nights,
we wake up in separate beds,
separate countries

no longer dreaming of each other.

The Lost Girl

The lost girl is free to run around the world,
surrounded by forgotten tears and broken dreams;
with her glitter stained bruises
and nails painted with cigarette smoke,
she walks alone, a damaged little girl
everybody knows she’s ruined to her core.

The lost girl can do what she pleases,
takes what’s given to her, looking out for love
in pools of glass shards;
dancing to the beat of a broken heart,
her eyes too dazed to make her way back home.

The lost girl is getting younger each year.
Regressing into a little child.
Needing a saviour or a saint
to get her out of deathly dreams.

The lost girl is in a broken-down car.
Driving to her utopia;

she’s about to crash.