Your words rip out my insides
As white light pours through the cracks
But still my heart sinks down
Down with shipwrecks and out of reach
Memory gaps filled with throbbing pain
I’ll have to hold the old ones dear
Well I’ll paint your picture standing in my room
With a dropp running down your cheek
I’d love to roll over into your open arms
But I roll into an empty bed
Twisting my neck with the cracks creeping by
Wishing you were here beside me
Now on my knees I’ll bow down my head
As your ax lifts off the mark
I’ll glance on up into the eyes of beauty
To squeeze out my final tear
When lips meet ears my work is done
But I haven’t quite finished yet
So just keep one dropp of blood
To let me stain your record book
Let me make my tiny mark
Let this rot away in my mind
Let the blade fall swift and fast
Let me go and let me die
For in the back of my mangled mind
From the flame burning through my heart
I’ll keep a small charred painting of me
With my head bowed and on my knees
And an ax hung high in the sky
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem