a/n: hello! yes, the world is ugly was one of the first songs i wrote about in this book, so no, your eyes are not playing tricks on you. but i thought it would be interesting to re-listen to it, and write about it again from an older and refreshed perspective. make of this poem what you will :)
there's a static in my heart i can't seem to ignore,
an odd sort of buzzing, gnawing at the cogs of the beating machine
i can feel the rust between the gears creaking softly, singing a quiet, melancholic hymn
and i feel you.
i feel you, you in all your heartbreaking glory
you, in your ethereal gray petticoats of regret and rain,
you, wearing that beautiful smile, hiding all the hardened pain
you, you are something.
you are something i cannot comprehend
a slowed down vortex of time and the tears it held for us
snow falling blue-black-white on the dusty gravel of our mended highways
ghosts, shadow-dancing delicately to a distant tune from decades back, slowly cranking a petite cracking ballerina at the apex of her little box
a distant tune with words as a dove's heaving chest and notes as an angel's silent sobs
melodies that sting at my charred eyelashes and butterfly-kiss me to sleep on insomniac whisky nights
you are a beautifully constructed paradigm, one i
grit my teeth and curse my head and try to forget
all the whisky couldn't erase you, for you are
the burning in this pity case's stomach
you are the bluest fire, always eating at the back of my throat, scraping the vessels dry and hoarse;
you are the lavender raindrops outside the window, pitter-pattering your way to a home you walked away from but never truly left;
you are the blossoming magnolia buds that snap in winter and litter the gateways to the heavens we built;
you are the green-grey inscription on my headstone: "the one who loved and lied and lived until the head could take no more";
you are around every corner, whispering my name carelessly in the wail of the breeze, birdcalling our tune softly in the shriek of the thunder, painting my heart in the pierce of the lightning;
you are. you are.
you are.
you are beautiful. you have rewired this slogging machine of a heart, and i would have it no other way. i am tired of the tears that graze these alabaster cheeks, but i will never be tired of you. you hurt to look at, and i'm in love with the sting.
you, my cruel seraph.
you, my unwritten tragedy.
you, my bittersweet elixir.
you. you. you.
oh, you beautiful, beautiful thing.
YOU ARE READING
lyrical beauty
Poetry"one good thing about music, when it hits you, you feel no pain." ~ bob marley verses of notes and chords; an ode to the vividest vice known to man - music. trigger warnings: occasional themes of violent love, angst, self-hatred, and overall dark i...
