Sleep is an every day thing that you need. Me, I'm just another Holy entity. A death bed conversion come to tear at your Grief with The Teeth of Fierce Belief. Coming for to carry you home. You're like an elephant bent on the graveyard. You're only certain of where to go in order to die. I meant what I said and I said what I meant.
The Dead. They can keep track of themselves, you know. They're not going anywhere. It's the living you have to watch out for. The Sun is up. God is watching and you are walking without seeing where you're going. You're just looking for somebody w/ whom to dance.
But you want to call her something other than a partner.
O - Sticks and stones. Slings and arrows. In the end, it's only names that can hurt you. A rose by any other name, still leaves you, just the same. And now you can't call after, because your mouth won't say the word. Love is a language full of words understood, that no one knows the sound of.
Best to close, with my sleeping through the sound of the morning light crashing onto the painting I made for you. The door snicks shut behind you. The heartbeat of the music kicks into keeping with the beat of your heart. Marking your steps.
O - you hit the street.
As you try and decide whether or not to look back up, at my window -
I wake. The painting is named for you. I call it, "Another animal makes a mistake."
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