I couldn't tell you where my thoughts end
And begin to curl at the edges of the wind
Turning grey and flaking like ash, heat hollowing
The skin of candles, burning dimly
I hold my fingertips up to it, they glow red, against the flame
Throwing punches, flickering, licking at my eyes,
Tying my mind up into some listless reverie
Spilling a glass of wine, draining across a table of memories
The stained glass window watches the rain through rose colored glasses
My imagination peeling away the colors of the sun
Coming undone so that the moon can bring
A little bit of light to lurk in the shadows of my dreams
Lost and left in the cold, in some dust bin in a room
Or maybe tucked away within rosebuds in bloom