a crime of passion.
I'm grey and grim,
erased, and ashen.
I wanted your smile.
I wanted your heart.
Our dreamy denial:
a sick work of art.
I'd still breathe you in
if you'd lay down beside me,
but the air here's too thin,
a low and lifeless plea.
So, choked in my throat
is where you'll be stuck
like the words that I wrote
when your lightning struck
me down to my core
and burned me from my guts.
The spark shines no more,
just ashes of cigarette butts.
******************************************
"Yeah, we're only ashes." Something Corporate Only Ashes
"The impact, the aftershave, the European cigarettes, the taxi, the alcohol that lingers on your breath, the lipstick, the street lamp, the woolen overcoat, the front desk, you tell yourself: it isn't over yet..." Pedro the Lion Second Best
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