sic transit gloria

she's an empty threat
sleeps in an empty bed
buries hope under the floorboards.
hears shaky breath, wills herself to forget.
no dreams, just numbers and figures, gotta pay the rent
every silent minute strung with malicious intent.
why do we wish upon dead things?
puppet hung on lonely strings, come to keep me company tonight
(fight off your demons, keep your skin under the light)
we talk about the way his ages is marked in the rings in the wood
become more honest than rings on fingers ever could.
and i, i look at you and feel like singing;
your kiss a question i want to spend my whole life answering.

and yet, i love so much it hurts my head
the heart, the horror, the touch, the dread.
(should have loved a thunderbird)
touch your skin, my throat, it sings.
(a thunderbird would come around again in spring)