I see myself in the mirror, drunk and slipping away. Blooming in shades of blue. I look at the painting and I see life, pleasure, death. In pictures of skulls, rotten fruit, and hourglasses, the sun after the rain is a reminder. Our heartbeats are violin strings. Places we think are paradise, woven and fading away. I look at you and feel the bruise drop like feathers. Open and closed, I know. These city lights are just like the way it was, bleeding love and holding onto burning wings. I feel you on my fingertips, like vanity, meat, and worthless art. Haunted by the truth, loveless nights setting me free. Love is a reflection, a lake we drowned in. Birds are humming sweet songs, sweet nothing.