Harlequin

ocean of poppies

smell the roses but i only smell smoke
feel the paris drizzle but i only feel hydrochloric acid
hear the art song but i only hear cries of rigor mortis
see the light beyond the subway but i only see fire

i'm getting older, seventeen is a highway
u-turning is so fucking tempting
but unfortunately Illegal.

and all my friends are tired of the
dusty delusional shards of the former child
love rots
acacia honey to petrol
how long will they say "i love you" with all
their heart before it's not all of it anymore

and they pick new roses in another spring
of another lonely wanderer

i guess i have been through it all
before. nothing can hurt
me anymore
i can drift away in an ocean
where poseidon and i share a heart.
and someone from above can wake
me up when it's all over.

it is easier to breathe in the second realm.