Haven’t we been here before?
What new world view from the same old vantage point —
are we really looking for?
Loneliness is cunning, with its sharp teeth and claws,
it whispers a little louder — until we answer the call,
then like the living dead — we march into its fiery jaws.
We set the sky ablaze,
let it tumble down onto just our two heads.
In a dream state — once again,
we’re wide awake —
watching the world crumbling before our bloodshot eyes,
with our dirty hands in plain sight, we’re super villains wielding kryptonite,
cape-less wonders that have cried —
many rivers into Oceans
and been washed away by the tides — thousands, upon thousands of times. There is blood on our dance floor every night,
still you sway with me just like the very first time.
What becomes of Me and you?
Haunting ourselves like lost ghosts ‘sitting on docks of bays — wasting time’ paralysed by sunlight on the horizon of a nostalgia dripped sunrise,
seduced by its vintage lullaby — echoes of past times false paradise.
We can’t help but find ourselves a million miles from anywhere,
squeezing the last drops out of our ink stained hearts,
sabotaged by our own bloodied blueprints
for exhilarating chaos — and devastating pain.
So much energy just draining away
studying these useless notes to self day after day,
as if we might forget how to make such a fucking mess again.
At the edge of our shadowy Universe —
it’s just us two, knowing letting go is what we have to do,
but instead we pour hopelessly into each others arms again and again —
falling for sexual healing masked as loving feelings,
replaying this losing game of deja vu
in stupid love with me and you.