my room is caked in flower petals
my hands in crimson earth
my fingers soaked in sunlight
and my toes in charcoal dirt.
it's quiet, so sweet and quiet,
in this soft and solid sphere
it's gentle in this firelight
that dries my vacant tears.
what paradise am i looking for?
this should be love
this should be sweet
this should be home
this should be
this should be
this should be safe.
but this safety brings my tears--
hollow, jaded, empty rain drops--
in this golden liquid light
that only liquifies my shattered sobs
and blemishes my sight.
i live in my barest nature,
in this stunning chrome called home,
and i tolerate the rain light
as i melt beneath the chrome.