Now Avaliable In Heartbroken

It's not perfect, could use some work...

With the last guitar chords echoing off the walls
I wake up, and take it all in, everything in.
And that’s when the curtain finally falls;
This is a skeleton house, covered in nostalgia.
Scents of roses and dust shimmering in the light
A great view out of the window
You know I was stood there that night
And I saw you…and it started raining
Raindrops on my face, but nowhere else
Rivers of pitch black mascara
And scarred eyes bleeding clear blood
It seemed to go on forever
On the little film reel inside my head
I still play it over and over today
It must be my favourite, my choice
Of film to make me try to hate you
Seconds later it was over
And you disappeared from view
I got into bed, pretending to be asleep
Pretending it was just a bad dream
Five minutes later, you laid next to me
I could feel you breathe, hear you speak
Not that a word was said
But inside my head
You whispered ‘I love you’
And I whispered ‘I love you too’
Those three words
That roll off your tongue so well
Mean nothing in the end
Because at the end of our tale,
We’re dead.
And twenty years later, I can still smell you
I can still smell you on my skin
Mingled with perfume and bedsheets.
In your smell, I can smell her.
That poisonous whore.
Jezebel and Judas, what a perfect match.
I’m glad we’re dead.
We’re skeletons, in a skeleton house,
Skeletons in our closets
With the fading scent of roses
And dust shimmering in the light
I remember that night.
And only the ghosts exist tonight.
Of you, me, and my broken heart.

That is truly beautiful. You've got a real talent there.