A sick taste settles in the back of my throat,
Pronouncing itself like bitter mucus,
And my heart aches,
A dull throbbing hurt.
Boom-boom.
Boom-boom.
Life hangs in the air a fragile balance,
Between remembrance and mortality,
The push of the tide coming in,
The inevitability of it pulling back out,
Suuuhhhh-Ooommmm
Suhhhhhh-Ooommmm
Phase fourth dimension,
Has chronicled itself,
Rupturing the seam of the present,
Extending history as replacement,
Light, blink,
Dark, blink, blink,
And tomorrow feels like yesterday,
Even though eternity exists today,
Blue blood coursing through my veins,
Waiting to bruise purple then black.
