I woke up to midnight
In a sullen frame
(what am I doing?)
(what am I thinking?)
Fraying in a room of dust
Writing letters for my wounds
I am taxidermy
With eyes of a bat
And a heart
That can fly and dance
Through nocturnal flames
I had a dream
Of a floating butterfly
Of a stranger
Of changing
That tragic kind of magic
The vanishing glass
And the smell of orange
Everyone I know is long gone
And the colours
They\'ve washed astray
With my tears
With the sea salt
With the memories of parties
Into the shadows of loneliness
The music of paper
The soft traffic outside
Screwing the lid off the bottle
The sunflowers I\'m painting
Stare back at me
Reminding me of grey skies in August
New years, new beginnings.