Blood As My Ink

Taste of Tragedy

There are times when I wonder

What my life would be like

If I could indulge in tragedy.

The lull of bending over a bridge,

My lungs stretching to taste

A little more air than they could take.

I'd fold my arms back

Make them easy to catch

And see who'd come running.

How many people would come

For my shiny wood box?

What flowers would they plant?

Some kind of drooping blue

Lying across roses

All wrapped in evergreen leaves?

There are days when I want to taste

What star-crossed lovers die for.

Those cryptic towers wrapped in vines,

Growing taller in a desperate man's wake,

I'd want to feel the forbidden passion

And taste the kind of love that bleeds.

Perhaps my memories aren't my own.

Maybe on the nights when I'm restless,

My soul is trying to recall the missing

Moments that my body yearns for.

I wish it'd find them.

I wish the fantasies I watch unfold around me

Would become real, even if they're painful.