turqoise walls in the kitchen static climbing up the walls, echoing in the hallways I’ve been awake for three small lifetimes waiting for somebody to call me streetlights blooming into halos every window reminds of home once known I still keep mistaking open doors for somewhere I belong, when I don't there’s a bad taste on top of my tongue quicksilver running through my veins do I touch to poison whatever comes too close just to see if it understands or holds hope? I burn through borrowed rooms under artificial moons leave shadows on the sheets before the morning moves into the streets life truly breezes like the wind passing briefly in aether and through my skin I keep looking for the doorways and yearn to wake up within lingering perfumes in the stairwell someone laughing down below my pulse keeps changing pace faster than I want it to race midnight wears me down like a fever till I'm blue, smoking cigarettes and wanting to love fewer here every stranger has a meaningful constellation if I don’t look too hard tonight for salvation there’s the moon off its axis turning the tides somewhere in my chest I keep orbiting the warmest thing and dare calling it a rest I burn through borrowed rooms under artificial moons leave shadows on the sheets before the morning moves into the streets life truly breezes like the wind passing briefly in aether and through my skin I keep looking for the doorways and yearn to wake up within distorted faces, am I crazy or the world just too hazy could stay here though I'd hate it and then the footsteps at the door call on me, remind me I can't reach the moon but every loon has an edge tender or strong depending where you step... I burn through borrowed rooms under artificial moons leave shadows on the sheets before the morning moves into the streets life truly breezes like the wind passing briefly in aether and through my skin I keep reaching for the moon to win and if I fall, again I begin turqoise walls in the kitchen daylight crawling through the blinds another little universe already left behind there’s a bad taste on top of my tongue quicksilver running through my veins do I touch to poison whatever comes too close just to see if it understands or holds hope? waiting for somebody to call me
