thank you (the saddest song)
this is my silver plate
another stage
some pretty screen
invisible
limelight just for you
when I say thank you with a smile
the next thing I sing
is the saddest song
I could never remember until now
this is another vow
a carefully cut-out paper rose
thirsty drinking ink
the signature sealing each letter
the few words we always repeat
’cause they are true
when I say thank you with a smile
the next thing I sing
is the saddest song
I could never remember until now
if I’d make a movie
this is what I would
a kid draw on the windowpane
a deformed device to pump blood
because it means something
when I say thank you with a smile
the next thing I sing
is the saddest song
I could never remember until now
23.12.07
red is the new black
they said and sold their smiles
got looks from sleeping in dead cars
the looks of rotting bodies
stolen beauty
red is the new black
is what they said and killed
the old black out of boredom
it wasn’t cool
it wasn’t theirs
red is the new black
they didn’ care
put it away
deadened all sound
red was their new black
it wasn’t ours.
nothing
nothing (9.12.07)
by the lines I draw
between the stars you’ve paited on the sky
things feel pretty strong
pretty easier
pretty intense
sometimes pretty scarce
what I know
is what you feel
but what I see
is nothing
by the thoughts you form
between the verge of sleep and wake
things seem rather certain
burning on the edge of ashes
but they sink
like trust
to the ground
what you want
is what I want
but what we get
is nothing
9.12.07
hand the book in hands
read the lines as usual
then I saw the sentence
of Virginia avoiding
herself in the mirror.
threw it, stopped it but too late
the memory already
left the cage of mind
shrinking into the cover
arms held up too protect
from nothing
the start of tears
I don’t see
why this should happen
don’t need
a mirror
or a shard
I wish for a time
where you can hold me
when this happens
hold me
never leave me
I sense
the rise of fear
quench it please
and until you can
I fight
I promised.(while reading “the hours”)
just caught myself lying all
messed up and staring at the cracks
in my soul because there are
really none on the ceiling.
just caught myself letting go of the
control I seized in a fight
and I realized how dumb it was
because what good
is going to come from this
nothing and you
will feel even worse than me
so what’s the point I asked
and stood up doing things
until you come
because eventually
you will
I know.
there are some pretty interesting habits
one can break at will
others circulate around
the tactics rather smartly
mocking efforts from high ground
you can’t reach because it’s inward.
there are some pretty awful memories
one always wants to leave behind
yet people in white coats say
such thinking makes them worse
because like habits they
evade your grasp and come
back in clever disguise.
there are some pretty wonderful times
one always manges to
forget ebsides the memories, habits and furies
so there constant appearence is
rather unoticed yet
there and doing
just fine.
why can’t getting memories like this
become a habit
one does not want to break?
lisra's broken mirror 