My home,
ridden with walls too washed of color
yours, dear friend, has always seemed fuller,
somewhere to get away,
we'll help each other in our great escape,
now when I need you most
my thoughts screaming out like haunted ghosts,
and I know my ears ache as well as yours,
somehow -you promise me- to quiet the downpour,
as if you had control of the rain
but still you say,
“dear friend, stay sane,”
we'll keep each other out of line
knowing that the wold is funner when your not trying,
because, now who cares, we're already far too gone,
so we'll fall away, together, like always, in each other's arms,
then you must only promise me this one thing,
never forget what we have accomplished,
spreading smiles at our losses,
you who know this world as well as I,
so promise me, for salvation before we die.
Cruel words they speak to us
but what does it matter when your turning to dust,
empty threats and angry lies
too bad,
I see much clearer now, from the other side.