The Blind Ventricle: ambulance chasers ft. Sharp

Regular - The Blind Ventricle
Itallics - An Ice-sickle Siren

-Naive as he Wants to be.
Maiden voyage: April 10, 1912
8:10 pm

Below a bedside candle,
the decks entangle in the heels of silhouettes
-a boy in the moon forgot to tuck in
and kiss on the head.
With waltzing finger tips,
the hours hands grace the ball room
floor, awaiting his date on the surface
of her;
as midnight puts on her diamond necklace
for the world to follow
-reckless.

Needles tick to his symphony-
the circle of life turns, apathetic to his plea.
The gray side of the sun
murmurs eulogy into the nighttime sky.
For a second or two, you can catch her scent-
a frozen Hibiscus.

coooooooome..

stumble along my velvet words,
and fall in love with the marble twine
that lines each vocal cord;
a stain glass picture frame
to hang your pretty little smile from,
set your head across my breast..

We're close to a numb that few have felt,
a numb- that crawls through my skin
and assures me that I'll always feel this
good.
The ticks turn docile with every blink-
time is stopping.
Waiting for us to catch up, and
I want to get lost in her blood,
just to find my way to her heart.

reeeeeeeeessssst..

your head on heartbeats
that murmur to the tune of your fantasy.
locks of twilight glittered silk
wilting from the virgin worm's churning teeth
-I am only, but to we.

I balanced her lash-
suspended above euphoria;
conviction lives in her eyes,
deceit is lucid to our imagination,
never trampling on our strings.
The rhythm splashes arctic waters into our melody.
We brave this hymn of blue hearts-
and faces, and touch and silence.

kiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiss me..

Her fantasy fills my lungs-
wandering through the fog,
I can hear her cracking
along the split vision specter.
My frozen hibiscus.
Anticipation sings in thick of white-
I'm almost yours-
almost at your promise.

across a lullaby of trust
-find my body on the steps of serotonin
before the hatchway in your forehead,
holding lust.

I'm coming my love!

-A Titanic Mess? or Masterpiece.
Collition of Hearts: April 14, 1912
11:40 pm

yes, come, liiiiiiiisten..

to the tenor veil slip the oceanside
a baritone crescendo
-picking stars from their orchards
to be placed in the sea;
flames bleed through the chill,
and waves dance the fission
to the double bass of our
constellation's eulogy.

With her tongue in her cheek, she cries of love,
and with that,
a thousand rancorous tears descend.
Sapphire blazes across my beating chest.
The petty malice that stems from her soul-
suddenly turns to grandeur
I am merely a nectar to her.
A bloodthirsty hibiscus, no longer fragile in spirit,
but callous and ferocious.
She barrages me as if I were carrying the sins
of a stranger's repentance.

I am everything
you never dreamed,
but have haunted
every song
you've hummed
to sleep.

-Blood Runs thinner than Salt Water.
His Ventricles Clot: April 15, 1912
2:20 am

She has defiled my ardor,
shaking my hatred off and
leaving her defect of seduction in my eyes.
This flaw blossoms for her.

cry your breath away
to the static symphonies of midnight
ambulance chasers-
aspirating crooked Sirens
on the hours
razorblade.
this phallic fantasy is a downward spiral
the ocean tides will rile-
from the driftwood tree,
this fruit is no stranger
to the woven mile;
and I've not the sunshine
nor the point of view
to split the tether you've fallen through,
my love.

Crimson jaw, stalwart voice,
she's a testament to the fear-
and shinning hope that floats gently
to the bottom of unforgiving waters.

Hell is colder than the truth
you've suited to-
and below the fog lamps
my hands
can't
save you.