Parallel Realities

I've gotten used to the taste of salt between my lips

the loss of control over everything

the lack of answers and a fleeting memory

my body becomes a parallel reality

you invade me with your magnetic touch

and make me bleed with every kiss

As I twist the key into your heart shaped locket

The universe is a twisted merry-go-round

I wanted to show you all that I could do

But you would rather write poems on seashells

On the way down; I'd throw beer bottles over



terraces in palaces from a past built by darkness

You drew your name on every girl's breast

And then made love to me in memory of the one

Who was always the best, undressed

I've gotten used to the sting of curses in my mouth

Of my soles falling apart, of the house I burnt down

With the soles of your soul; I try to put myself

in the shoes of a fool, but zero never calculates

all the in between places, all the miserable faces

trapped behind a plastic existence still

I am the resistance.



I watch your cultivation of an empire of dreams

under smoke clouds of oblivion and screams

a hollow snow globe or a pyramid scheme

She loves to wear all black in the gothic emo scene

America is dying in the war machine

My blood was your existence, as I spread my wings



Like Icarus, and made love to a million things

But that one thing, that I was missing

I watch your cultivation of rotten dreams

And upon your gypsy dollar bills

You write their names for prescription pills.

I am your will, I am your promise

I am your golden land upon which you stand

golden, shining, dreaming earth

I am your home. I alone, your worth.