Such a Taste for Our Own Armageddon
Such a Taste for Our Own Armageddon
A pause.
Eternal silence
before a pleading word escapes.
Wait!
There are still phrases left to speak
and feelings ready to take shape.
To take flight.
Don’t cut the bond just yet,
let those string be until they break.
Don’t let the anger tense around you,
restrain the urge a while longer.
Until I can hold your hand again.
I know sorry isn’t going to save us
but it’s not what I’m asking for.
We are too beautifully broken
for salvations anyhow.
Like a perfect poem
of merged tragedies,
you and I.
So listen to the flutter from your heart,
let it whisper suicide of emotions.
You can try to turn away
but you will end up walking backwards,
hitting this messy relationship blindly.
Like always.
You have a soft spot for destruction
and what can I say? I’m so drawn to devastation.
Like a moth to light.
We will doubtlessly assassin
our intertwined and tangled spirits
little by little.
This may be just another obsession
of two adrenaline junkies with minds
set on a kind of permanent overdrive.
Close to meltdown.
But it’s addicting enough to seem like love
even though it might be merely a reckless romance.
Built on derbies.
It is only a matter of time
before all of it comes crashing down
on us again.
And until then I want to hold your hand,
so we can bring each other down together.
Don’t be afraid, don’t walk away,
don’t be so scared to let this crumble.
Please wait and see if what doesn’t kill us
really makes us stronger.
Copyright © 2007
A pause.
Eternal silence
before a pleading word escapes.
Wait!
There are still phrases left to speak
and feelings ready to take shape.
To take flight.
Don’t cut the bond just yet,
let those string be until they break.
Don’t let the anger tense around you,
restrain the urge a while longer.
Until I can hold your hand again.
I know sorry isn’t going to save us
but it’s not what I’m asking for.
We are too beautifully broken
for salvations anyhow.
Like a perfect poem
of merged tragedies,
you and I.
So listen to the flutter from your heart,
let it whisper suicide of emotions.
You can try to turn away
but you will end up walking backwards,
hitting this messy relationship blindly.
Like always.
You have a soft spot for destruction
and what can I say? I’m so drawn to devastation.
Like a moth to light.
We will doubtlessly assassin
our intertwined and tangled spirits
little by little.
This may be just another obsession
of two adrenaline junkies with minds
set on a kind of permanent overdrive.
Close to meltdown.
But it’s addicting enough to seem like love
even though it might be merely a reckless romance.
Built on derbies.
It is only a matter of time
before all of it comes crashing down
on us again.
And until then I want to hold your hand,
so we can bring each other down together.
Don’t be afraid, don’t walk away,
don’t be so scared to let this crumble.
Please wait and see if what doesn’t kill us
really makes us stronger.
Copyright © 2007