Sunday, 29 March 2009

lonely bass

Down in this cellar
I play this chipped bass,
unable to cope
with two more strings.
Slumped dead on
this floor, no further strength,
no path forward
without your guidance.

Sat on my stool
wounded in my warzone,
white flag flutters
but I'll continue fighting.
My face unshaven
cant face whats in my mirror,
so how can I
let you look into my eyes.

Hold out my arm
prepear to burn myself,
I'm too scared
Use hot wax to avoid,
committed scarring.
I dont know if i'm hot or cold,
as I have noone
to hold and to tell me.

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