Miss Mystie in Toulouse
Added 2018-04-21 21:00:01 +0000 UTC
"Can we leave the pain somewhere in the fog?
Drop down over every edge
I've felt it fall from me through moss and crescent moons.
Cut ourselves a sickle from the sky.
Was there ever any ice
sharp enough for us to fall upon,
Or wash over?
I've left a lot behind
Maybe one day you can too.
Our spines are always grating under it
The weight of the clouds we were born under.
It seems like everyone is building statues to what we would rather see torn down.
But it's just so much easier to sleep in the mountains than the rubble,
at least it is for me
I need the smell of pine and smoke buried under my eyes
for them to lay heavy.
Once we saw a man turn to water in Paris
We saw the water turn to hail in Vik
Who will see us become an ocean
rest the restless waves?
Drift dreary on the streets of Toulouse
I've just got more to say than I want to
I think we have to pull the words out from one another
to calm the fog on the days it dances in our minds
I day dream the French falls out my mouth like glass
Even as it echoes through our window
And the fog becomes a fire."
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