A Boy With Roses

One More Drink to Numb the Pain

As the minerals calcite and aragonite, the crystal forms, microorganisms in pale blues, in deep purples, in illusions. I see it, the liquid moon in violent dreams, swimming above the skyline of my imagination. I saw myself in my reflection, too ashamed to say anything. I fell from the fabric of words, into rabbit holes, into worlds as beautiful as a rainbow, blaming you for the way I feel, wanting one last dance for the old times, one more song to feel something.

My lips are wet with alcohol, and my mind is wet with thoughts of you, thoughts of the relapse, thoughts of where I put the pills, where I placed myself. People call me the sun, but they don\'t know the person I\'ve become, somewhat cynical. I didn\'t know I could change so fast, blaming you for the way I feel, for the wounds that don\'t heal. Everything was dreamy. In my rapture I was swept away with the rain, blinded by the lights, the mountains, the music, the casual walks in the woods, the mundane pleasures. Sometimes I think I was jeopardised from the beginning. Falling before I can\'t start. At every corner I am a prisoner, a sacrifice for the gods, in the clothes of an iconoclast, destined to be here, wanting the world and the air. I sit with my ocean scented hair, wanting the world and the air.