The Sounds That Carry in the Breeze


Ink across the eyes haunting like a lover from the past. Lost places and faces grabbing my feet as I sleep. Lies woven into the very fabric of what I am. A series of images repeating like a stuck reel of film in an abandoned cinema. It rains and smoke curls around my hands as a cigarette burns for no reason. You and me, wrapped in shadows that fall like leaves on a moonlit path in darkened winter. There’s no time for reply, just a phase of terrible introspection as the ship we sail on sinks without forgiveness. We drown without even knowing. We suffer for love when love gives nothing but open ended answers. All those moments that made us lost in the fire. Forgotten dreams spiralling out of control like faithless loners at the foot of a dead tree. Sing a lonely song. Cry tears of hushed regret as the birds sweep down upon bombed out cars. Victory is empty. Symbols as keys. Youth as proof of virtue. I caught a glimpse of someone not known in the bathroom mirror. He looks for what matters most yet he hits far off the mark. Dozy and dim, I wake myself thinking if only my chances of hope weren’t so slim.

A billion yesterdays forever flicked into an ashtray as the sound of smashing glass creeps in through an open window. Another lowly hung head disappearing like invisible ink in the veins of another invisible fool. Anxiety on buses. Shyness mistaken for carelessness. Not a monster, yet not a man. Just a boy. Just a kid looking for the sun. Not here nor there. Wrapped around your finger, I do what you want even though there’s no way of knowing what we’re doing. Come home. Surrender your guns and give yourself to the one who stands inside your love. Those ties, they will always remain. Life is tender and cruel. It hurts and mocks when we beg for it to stop. The only way forward is to ride the wave and see where it takes us. As long as it’s with you, that’s all that matters. We don’t speak. We hate like it were something to admire. Shiny people shine without this kind of shit. We don’t need it so why do we praise it. What’s the point in feeling blue when out hearts are yellow. Get out whilst you still can. Kiss the lips of the one who makes you bleed life. Don’t believe my words, believe my dreams. Look closer. Dig deeper. Take my hand and dance with the animals. They still await your pretty dress. They see that New York skyline, and they smile at what it could all mean.

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