Inspired by “Conjure” from Jenn Violetta.
Skin by Jenn Villota.
She is not dead, she does not sleep
She has awakened from the dream of life
‘Tis we who, lost in stormy visions,
Keep with phantoms an unprofitable strife,
And in mad trance strike with our spirit’s knife
We decay like corpses in a charnel;
Fear and grief convulse us and consume us day by day
And cold hopes swarm like worms within our living clay.”
Quoted and modified from Shelley’s Adonais.
It’s funny how, as we grow old
We cling to the past as we cling to the air
And feel nostalgia for things that were maybe never there
The town where innocence was bullied and flared
The house where desire’s first fluids bled
But now the autumn leaves are turning to the color of rust
I’m getting jealous for youth’s first yearnings for lust
Something kind of hit me today
I looked at you and wondered if you saw things my way
People will hold us to blame
It hit me today, it hit me today
We’re taking it hard all the time
Why don’t we pass it by?
Just reply, you’ve changed your mind
We’re fighting with the eyes of the blind
Taking it hard, taking it hard