Gravedigress

Saturday morning heartbreak

I count the 

tiny little deaths

on my window 

There is no cure

for my curiosity 

I am bathing in

the afterglory

of the previous night 

when the soul violently penetrates the body again

you resurrect

and have to walk over the worlds you conquered

a man stole my conscience 

but I never tried to take it back

I am overwhelmed by this nostalgia 

I want to reignite all my broken homes 

outdated wishes 

under my mattress

I want to dance

in gardens hanging from his fingers

I scream damnation

I can chose which face to save

a dystopian messiah

a lion dressed as a lamb

in my dreams 

I am an overdosed party girl

I walk a fine line

which is nothing but fine

Sunday morning heartbreak

I count the 

tiny little deaths

on my window 

I like to keep things complicated

an unclear abomination of what is real

the figments of my imagination 

projections of untroubled times

that I relive in my head

It’s a flaw in my iris

deep within my mind

incorrect instincts 

a destiny that never arrives 

a momentum always missed

a chance that can’t be grasped

it’s almost like an illusion

a song of the cursed 

There is no cure

for my curiosity 

I am bathing in

the afterglory

of the previous night 

Monday morning heartbreak

I count the 

tiny little deaths 

on my window