On A Thirteenth When You Started Killing Me....

september night

on a friday

i was never there

your vision fooled you

with a hologram

my good spirit posting

as a mortal

while you were

radiating your glorious

aura upon the patio

of what lies ahead

i believed you so i

showed myself in

flesh instead

on a friday

it was the thirteenth

so are we now devoured

by the deceiving charm

of this superstition?

but i guess youll

be rescued by the

banging bells

of your religion



it was the thirteenth

at four a.m.

it was cold and

the sky was bragging

about its pyrotechnics

falling stars

thats what you saw

but i knew they were

fallen angels

early morning

while everyones asleep

perfect time for God to

cast them down

perfect time for them to fall

perfect time for you to fall

perfect time for me to crawl

out of my shell

and rebuild it all



that was the first year

of the last decade

of the twentieth century

when you held me and

called me baby

that was the day

you called me baby

and started killing me


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