Meditations

because when my arms are drenched in blood down to my fingertips I feel alive
but that is the only thing I feel

broken dreams like falling stars, you chase beyond the horizon
catching although they cut like glass
you’re unable to trust anything but your own senses but even they will sometimes lie
the pain I’m supposed to feel, unfounded in your eyes

looking down and ready to jump
with the sidewalk stained with rain, the window streaked with blood
the clouds are crying the tears I cannot shed
and the song in your throat now is dying

because when my arms are drenched in blood down to my fingertips I feel alive
but that is the only thing I feel

you beat the drum to the rhythm of the hunt
when it’s the tiger within that is driving
coursing through your veins, the pain of your own life
and you’re caged and you’re burning alive

necklaces faded and shattered on the floor
amid the shadows of those you’ve left behind
the falling petals of today’s blossoming roses
take form to shackle the curtains of our hearts

because when my arms are drenched in blood down to my fingertips I feel alive
but that is the only thing I feel

turning from the starting line to let your arrows fly
but you can’t even see yourself
blind to dreams until it’s raining red, you climb
the walls that set you free

streaked with broken glass and hatred
you cross rivers without making a sound
numb to the suffering of your own body in the end, you leap
through our still flaming ring of time

because when my arms are drenched in blood down to my fingertips I feel alive

but that is the only thing I feel


This extended poem is paired with the A-side mini-compilation「Mo{ve}ment」: Read Here

2 thoughts on “Meditations

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