the forks in the road
wont lead me home
a place ive never known
i wander cold and alone
down the wrong path
i have found myself at last

do you hear them whisper
they speak the unspeakable things
under the shining of pretty lights
and neon signs

whats it like to feel alive
ive seen them jump from high places
but they dont see their own hands
bloody red

the hands of the heartless
wont lead me home
a place ive never know
i wander broken boned
down the wrong path
i have found myself at last

roses wither in the winter
butterflys die in spring
my face melts in the summer
desert rain drowns me out

but my demise is so beautiful
the decomposition of what could have been
i wonder what its like
to be made whole again

k.g.

copyright 2015