chaoticcliche: a laptop bathed in moonlight with various stickers decorating the top (Default)
Flick

The flame appears and

vanishes

Just like you

Flick

If life can be so feeble

as temporary as this flame

Then what’s the point?

Flick

What’s the point?

Flick

What’s the point?!

Flick


There’s nothing without you

As soon as I heard the news

I went deaf

Music turned static in my ears

Ivory keys charred black

Melodies

scrawled on the page

like an unintelligible mess of thorns





The only sound still playing

in my head

is it what I imagine

was your last

Every note, every key, every harmony:

The dying screech of skidding tires

Eternal echoes

in a silent

void

It all means nothing

Without you to hear

Without you to sing

Without you to drag me

from the couch—

apathy atrophying my fingers—

asking me

to play for you



It all means nothing

My drive died with you



Why couldn’t I have died with you?

Flick

I can hear your voice

in the flame

It beckons me

to come find you

and I obey



A gasoline baptism

Cleanse me so I am worthy

Enough

to be in your arms

see your smile

hold your hand

and hear

your voice

your laugh

An endless source of harmonies

Paradise could never replicate

Say my name

Please

Just one more time

I’ll do anything

to hear

I’ll do anything to hear you

again

Flick

The flames engulf all,

and in the darkness

I swear



I can hear you calling
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chaoticcliche: a laptop bathed in moonlight with various stickers decorating the top (Default)
Annastasia Hinz

October 2019

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