giovedì 16 febbraio 2012

2 beats.

My heart has two beats:
the one is good
the second is sneaky and squinter.
They beat on their own way,
sometimes they stay in tune
sometimes they split:
the first takes a time,
the second runs at double time
(...or it stops, for a while, and then starts to jump).
But...       
both of them
don't know what to do.
With you.

2 commenti:

  1. My heart only has two beats: Yours and broken. Your beat is beautiful. Leaves skipping along the asphalt and being blown away in the wind. Crystal glasses held up high in a toast to you. Take the sunlight and make a rainbow. Press this prism against your face. Smile because you're beautiful. Smile because this is your day. This is the beat of my heart when I'm yours. This is the beat of the world when I'm yours. The hiss of falling stars behind your ears. Come crashing into the horizon. Dawn. Dusk. Patterns of colors painted across the sky. Smile because you're beautiful. This is the beat of my heart when I'm yours...

    My heart only has two beats: Yours and broken. Broken beats are the death of me. Falling slowly steadily. Nothing's more steady than a flatline. Across the horizon the night is gray and colorless. The only song is of the cicada whose skin is being ripped off. Can you still see the stars? Can you distinguish between them and the planes? Cry because you're broken. Die because you're broken. This is the beat of the world when I'm broken. This is the beat of my heart when it's broken. Nails on chalkboards. Know it all know nothings blabbing about. Cars crashing. Windows smashing. Babies crying. Mothers flying across asphault because seatbelts are forgettable. Psalms of my cancer written on tablets of asbestos. Scratching fingernails across chalkboard. Cry because it's broken. This is the beat of my heart when it's broken...

    Every rainbow has its duller colors. Every redwood has looked down on better days. Everything, everything falls apart. Everything, everything changes in the beat of my heart. Bloodcurdling screams. Stagnant bloodstreams. They all seem prettier. My heart only has two beats. There is yours. There is broken. There it's yours. Yours. Whistling of windy days on tree tops. Dawn. Dusk. Patterns of colors, some duller than others, but they're all beautiful when I'm yours. Press this prism against your face. Smile because this is your day.


    Testi Left Lane

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    Risposte
    1. so, do you wanna tell me something?
      i'dont think those words are too similar to mine extemporaneous thinking...

      Elimina