Shut up buttercup and lay in the grass We’ll watch the Jays fly past his blue feathers not so covert the king of the oaks Watch him fly and gleam all that he knows His dinosaurian voice And moustachioed wisdom calling to us the harshness of reality as we lay back on fields of yellow soft beneath our skin yielding to our unrelenting bodies in this monstrous yet wondrous world
The tears make bokeh of the headlights Careening around this corner This is the only time we felt alive Our skeletons waiting to discard this flesh And death didn’t half look dashin’ The way he danced and took our breath
And when your lips fall from their hinges In shock and agony When the anguish rolls across your face And your lungs expand with empty space Know this was the ferocity That pulled us to our knees And we were only ever sorry We couldn’t make it to the other side Of the storm
Emptiness grows like weeds Crawling and creeping Inside of me Knotweed spiraling around my veins My roots pulled Till nothing can ground me Life thrives around me But the essence of me Has long since died
The trees bared all and the woods collected the debris of life. Feet left their prints and the Robins remained the last birds singing. Clouds cast shadows so as to smother the light of day. A murder of Crows cawed their raucous cries and the world looked and felt like the end. But it was worse. Days and nights merged without an end in sight.