Rapture

"That's why we seize the moment try to freeze it and own it, squeeze it and hold it"
Eminem

~

Breathe, breathe and break
This heart, this heart,
This heart's the love you give
The love you give for blood
Your blood, your blood, your blood,
Your blood it smells and tells
Of a love you make and take
And make and take
It hurts and shakes
The beat within; awaken.

I break, breathe and break
In this moment, the moment, the moment
You capture me, capture me
Unwrapping rapture; rapture's free
If only, only you could see
Tell me what do you see?
This life, it's fractures
And in one of'em lies the key - to be
If only, only you could be - me.

You break and breathe today
Your love, it bleeds of night
It lights the way, the way
Home reads your eyes, it spells your lies
And these waves, they freeze the bay
The cove of my heart is ruptured clay
Okay, I'll play this game of gray and gray and gray - and gray.

I breathe and break twice tonight - twice tonight
And your love lies, it lies, it lies in bed with torn clouded sight
Dead still, it still beats in here, it's warm and bright - it's warm
This war is rain and it stains my plain face - a fraud
I'll face this pain they all applaud and you can take, take the storm
And I'll meet you at the break of dawn beneath the breath of dew - dew of me and you.

Break, breathe and break
Those walls, this haunted room of masks and demons
It's hidden hate that kills your freedom
It's the madness that pretends to reason
To speak ill of love, the love that broke the fall from Eden.

We break, breathe and break
Yet our flooded hearts set aflame, they'll set silence in the lake
And this grief we partake in, it'll flatten these ridges and flakes
But unbreakable vows, they're unshakable bridges - the soul awakes.

I break and breathe you in
I end and we begin
In the music of love - it's playing on your skin.

You breathe and break me out,
Cast terminal vanishment onto doubt.

We breathe together and then, again, I ask you:

What do you see?

~

"It's like I'm standing there you know appreciating God's design
And then you showed up; it's like you read my mind."
Black Star

Bulletproof

"Lost my heart

When I found it

It had turned to dead, black coal."

Sixto Rodriguez

~

He shoots.

Imagine an ocean covered in clouds. Come down, and through. And look right. If you look closely, there's this thin horizontal space hovering in-between white and blue. And that's where you're suspended. Now, if you have water on your face, then you must understand, deep down, that one must not dwell in metaphors, no matter how swell the reflections on the waves or how comfortable that bed of clouds.

But everything's interconnected and it's beautiful. And while the two voices in my head tell me that the universe is within and that all the colors of the world extract their ink from your retina, the third voice sings the discordant chorus in the background: "Run, quit and disappear. Get back to bed." And it makes me wonder. It makes me wonder if all this wondering is coded in the same pattern my feet always sculpt in the terrible sands of reality. It makes me wonder if I'm at least a good enough runner to get some sand up there with the useless dust -at the turn of my chin- on that mirror. Maybe that way, the guy in the reflection will appreciate the effort and let me fade away without the extra bullets in the back of my head. Maybe one day, your reflection won't let him shoot. And they'll both watch us walking away into this hellish madness, painting gardens of bliss under our feet.

Are you fearless or are you too afraid to even realize what it is you fear?

Are you fearless or do you just have nothing to lose?

How can you be both fearless and loving?  It stars with an F.

[...]

If only you knew my story, maybe then you would understand why I vanished; first last sorry goodbye.

Perspectives and interpretations dizzily spin above two concentric circles, and the colors, if any, shift from warm or cold on the light spectrum - nothing to declare.

Enter dark cold rain. An old white hoodie with blood-orange stains. The river flows in you and so too does the light from that train. The mind wanes and wails and trails behind the rhythm so you put on your headphones to follow the pain and silence the source that echoes it... that maimed heart, masquerading as this crooked hand, bent to write all this 'inkkrap' just to get through the night.

[...]

The broken deconstruct the script. The bent twist the tale. The dreamer designs the metaphor. The actor salutes the empty stage. The dust seeps through the mirror. The clouds impersonate a smoke screen. The story becomes the characters... or is it the other way around?

He bows.

~

"But don't bother to buy insurance 'cause you've already died."

Sixto Rodriguez