Too many sighs were in our mirror,
Blowing the kisses that would pledge nothing.
Gratitude was upon your naked lips,
As shadow once drained from your eyes.
This mind of mine, is miserable,
As I’ve forced it to be.
A dreadful field of longing and plight,
Is now before our very sight.
The woman you are, is now the girl you’ve become,
The wisdom you lack
Is the place we both share a bed.
In a home where the walls peel the paint away
Like the sadness in our heart of hearts,
Like the wardrobes that hold rotted clothing,
Like the many tissues that are stained by our tears,
Like the beauty turned into understandable misery.
We are, in this crudeness, just feeble.
A dreadful field is for you to cast your eyes upon,
It is the place where all else has unearthed itself from,
In the most sheltered parts of our hearts.
We have the most hurt parts of our soul,
Aligned on that dreadful field,
When beauty has become transparent,
Your beauty has become a phantom,
Your eyes have become two things distant.
Keep watering the dreadful field,
With the many cold tears you wield.