It finally happened.
Dead of night,
Bright light breaks across the sky,
heaven cries poison,
and I’m awake,
thinking of you,
as my bones burst from sweet skin,
desperate for your attention.
Sirens are singing.
hoping it’s all a dream,
but knowing I was never that lucky.
This war is cold,
cold and cruel,
looking at the lusciousness of love,
and simply saying
I’m drawn to you,
sewn together by our souls,
crawling along empty train lines,
your eyes in my mind,
like the shining star from a nativity,
guiding me and my gifts to your side.
I am not three kings,
and by now,
you’ll know I’m not wise,
I would walk every inch of this apocalypse for you,
and if that’s not enough,
then I don’t know what a girl has to do,
to prove herself worthy,
of being the first one you think of,
when the last day arrives.
The world burns.
We all used to be so beautiful,
but we are foolish and egotistical,
burning off our own bodies just to spite our faces,
because war became more important than everyday life,
the pissing contest spilled over,
and the whole world drowned.
There was no other way,
I think I might be dying,
but I want to die in your arms,
wherever they are.
I’m outside your office,
what’s left of it,
and I can hear you calling my name,
I can feel you wrapped tightly around me.
What’s left of me,
London is drowning,
and I always imagined I’d live by the river,
but it’s too late for all that now.
I thought I might have a son,
one day when I was ready.
I thought I might learn to drive,
or make things right with my estranged sister.
I imagined I’d spend Valentine’s Day with you,
on that big hill in Greenwich park,
where you can stare at the whole city,
“Yeah, that’s my kind of town.”
it’s too late for all that now.
There’s nothing left of it now.
It’s too late for everything now.