| Your hair is a matted mess It used to be combed Parted to the side and neatly trimmed You were always so well groomed So likeable and well manered The carpet is damp with an awkward texture Somthing out of context Somthing horrible The furniture The walls Your entire living room Everything is covered Painted in pieces of you Blood on your new shirt Oh well It was red anyway You don't seem to mind I feel like I've killed God Like I'm evil and vile Like I've sent a monster Tearing through the walls of the vatican Blood on a photograph On the floor It hurts so much This horrible feeling in my stomach Like evil Comsuming internal organs My body becoming envenomed I feel the feathers of a murdered angel A subsistence of time A red reminder on my finger tips Dipped into the pool near your body A nine millimeter beretta is still clentched in my hand Still dangerous Still warm and shaking in my grasp But all I can think about Are the moments of a departing figure Solemn movements Trailing from my home And then my life Sitting cross-legged I place the photograph on my knee There is only a whisper of sirens now A disembodied friend The taste of gun metal And an angels descent I must be a demon I don't think I have ever felt more alone |
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