seven hours late
seven hours late listen on youtube or here my last seven hours falling off the clock scrapping down the wall, bidding farewell. my blurred eyes gazing at a photo, it too, tethered into madness, sight fading, all the lines and colors of you. Slowly draining. Your photo. Now, a blank white paper canvas , a last glance intoxicates whatever moves me. = if it's any comfort, I might want to hug my odes to you, recite my broken blunders, epic failures stand on my crooked past, reprimand convicted crippled fingers, that caused you to be gone, a fruitless remedy, I can tell by the way I'm missing you. = wanting to be wrapped in between layers of your dreams your breath as musical notes, in tune with magnetic symphonies dedicated to this melancholy. Show the love of god. I heard so much about it. = so peel the skin off reminiscing words, let the couped-up dreams spill on these dying days, let them wander your streets, pace time away. You can take this guilty in an ass...