Freaks

He may live half-way across town, but he always makes up for time we've

 lost when he comes around. Our hearts are beat beat beating in unison and we’re feed feed feeding the communion’s gossip train by slitting our veins 

open so the blood and unfortunate crud washes away our worries. 

They gasp and point, but don’t dare report what they've seen. 

We’re freaks in love and we don’t care about the scene. 

Your hand slides around my jaw to caress the troubles slipping through. 

With glitter and the warmth from the sun, we'll stir it all up into a stew.

Had you ever imagined yourself this way? Eating up the worries

of another soul to placate your own? Through pictures and memories,

I've seen your woes. How lovely a tragedy may seem

until death is lying on your winter stream. How lovely

death may seem until you're on the street, looking for a

hopeless dream. How lovely a dream may seem until you're

no more than the thought you once used to be. How lovely

disappearing may seem until no one is left to be.