You have your mother’s

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Jade green
Mahogany brown
And glistening chrome

A band of dark and light
A rim full of brightness
Slick, sharp tongues lapping

Yeah, the night wishes
to be so dark and brooding
and have that mysterious octane

The jade blisters
into the brown
and all the chrome can do is bleed

A see-through membrane
A pool of gelatine and liquid
The glowing orb, behind, the soul sits

I’d give up all my green
And trade some black for brown
If I could just steal your shine

Guess

It’s like Jazz.
Ironic, when it’s a candle’s hue.
Cliche, when describing sadness.
The ocean reflects the sky and we see it,
or is it the other way round?
The river runs it.
Eyes want to be it.
Cold lips shutter.
City and Colour.

From Fall to May

Oh, how I miss the golden grain,
now in some winter sad.
I drove the car clear up to Maine,
just tryin’ to make you mad.

What’s left of this lonesome pain,
Tell me, what’s left of dad?
I wish the house’d go up in flames,
it wouldn’t be so bad.

The bank tore the house in two,
Ya wanna run away?
I miss ma, how ’bout you?
I know, nuthin’ left to say.

And I had a favorite color too.
Yours brought in the day.
The irony is the color’s blue
Sad from fall to may.

I’m sad from fall to may.