The casualty

the night has fallen down the staircase

and i,

for one

have felt its bruises

equilibrium: inebriated

our social graces have been displaced



as we sink deeper

into the drink,

the volume increases...

night time reurrects fault lines

silent wars - rumble somewhere below

the surfaces verses.

the shoe is dropped

lungs explode

shards of words of a shatterd voice

and there's still a hole where the phone was thrown



the moon is rising

a revolution

i close my eyes and the room is spinning

you're still screaming



"sweetie, the moon has raped me-

it's left its seeds like a tomb inside me."

so i must learn to abort these feelings

this romance is bleeding...



night time triggers the land mines

bedroom wounds - lovers like brigadiers

marching two by two

a soldier's down

flood gates burst

i've said some things i wish you'd never heard

like, "there's still a hole where the phone was thrown."

it's growing as we speak,

and it's sucking us both in

a vacuum of sorrow to swallow up the day




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