I'm writing graffiti on the curves of your body
fingertips like aerosol cans
breaking the laws of artistic expression
telephone calls with grey goose bottles
meandering down streetways in the middle of the day
bedframe bones that rattle with decay
cigarette in hand, you'll make it through the day
bottles quietly line the streets
the only evidence of any debauchery
that had ever happened here
she was nothing in the beginning
and now is nothing in the ground
her flowers and her alcohol were all they ever found
and though she lays deep, deep down
I can still feel her eyes of brown
gazing upon me
in a broken ghost town
voicing my suspicions
I break all inhibition
find the difference between love and addiction
fear and condition
escape and coalition
she was a limerick in the palms of my hands
oh, she was a sonnet, oh don't you understand?
she was a soliloquy
all bloody eyed and fed up with me
she was a monologue inside my head
for the times when there was nothing I could've said
to make anything better
at all
I deface the brick walls on your delicate arms
a pen like a knife, digging deeper and deeper
until all we have left is our fears
and all we can hear is the cacophony in our ears
your red raincoat is all we ever needed
to get through the world