Crescendo

There was a misty dream,

nailed to my bed,

lost in the screams;

so I went out into the morning breeze,

and kept walking the way you please.

I thought about the past &

am sure you are no myriad but

now I can hardly speak

of the stone you live in.

When I heard your machinery

what was really beating?

I didn't want your wholeness,

I didn't want your disgrace,

I didn't want your disdain.

I just wanted your skin.

And the touch, golden and dim,

on my lifeless flesh.

But I got lost in the path.

Do you think me and death

could make amends? --

'cause there is no way

to be fond of my remains...

How many pills will I need

to kill this pain? The doctor says

there's no way to avoid such stain.

Not even cocaine.