Read a page out of your diary the other day,
Dint know you wanted to leave,
Wanted to go on a little trip down hill,
On the self made sledge,
Hammered down nail by nail,
Plank by plank coming apart
Down the deadman's hill...
Why didn’t you mention
You were generously giving away
All your possessions?
Letting go off mortal passions,
To follow Hansel's bread crumbs,
To the witches confectionary,
To fight her, and take her place...
Dint know you write,
Even the suicide note of your lover was written by you
While he died in your arms, you smiled.
You placed that dagger in his hands.
He pleaded, while you seized his hands to slash,
Led him to his penance perchance...
How come you battled;
All those demons of yesterday?
What made you the goddess yourself?
How come you left your diary behind;
Was it for me to piece together?
Did you ever read your old diaries again?
Went back the dreggy alleyways and
Held tight the arms the skeletons of your closet?
Have they clutched back at you?
Pressed the wrong places?
Have you been aroused?
Made love to them?