Sometimes she’s Persephone

Or just another Ophelia floating in the river

And she falls like morale

While he rises like dissent

All intent becomes meaningless as war

and laughable as justice

Everything given is a prayer left unanswered

And the only words left are empty metaphors

Every morning the Promethean heart regenerates

Lays poised on its sleeve for daily breaking

Down by the river’s edge she waits for a reason

trails a finger in the icy waters

Flirts with inevitable endings

Sometimes you have to die again

To remember what it hurts like to live

Sometimes you can sleep a life away

Wake to the scents of vanilla,smoke and fear

Sounds of a ragged heartbeat and a song

that will lose its meaning

Sometimes a heart stops on a doorstop

By light of a half moon and fire on a mountain

And you let the ghost of it burn into memory

Follow the contours of phantom hands and hesitant touch

An echo of reluctant longing

and heartbreaking sincerity of regret

Etched into permanence like a beautiful nightmare

There are days when she sits by the river’s edge

and thinks about sinking like a stone

becoming cold and dead again

Hoping someone will give her permission

You have to be careful what you wish for

One day he’ll give the signal and she’ll laugh

And slip beneath the waves like she was born to drown

Close her eyes and dream happy mermaid dreams

Hoping it’ll take this time

She’s always been so bad at dying

Back at the water’s edge he lingers

Watches her drift out to sea and smiles

Thinks he’s lucky to be free of her at last

Still, he must admit,she makes a very pretty corpse

He’s glad that he thought to bring the camera

He gets lonely sometimes…

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