Wasted on burnt sunsets, a dying wicker flame erodes from within, sparks flutter into subtle bits of ash, a slow dissolve. Slipping deeper into corrosion, this metallic dream was built for tin soldiers, Queens of Mercury may hold their stagnant breath.

What naked freaks we are, children born of ice and gas, free to swim in lakes filled with fury. Can you touch my memories? Can you feel my damaged ego? I dare you to ride upon this broken cloud, my atoms will fill you with joy.

Upon a time you once winked at me, your silver eyes dazzled with fear, lonely drops of acid kissing my tender skin. I can't love you now, it's time to go. I was never ready. Paper suns will rise in the depths of Hades, but my frozen heart will never weep for your liquid touch.