That my beautiful talented friend wrote about me.
A pile of hours, getting smaller
Is waiting for the day
Until the sun shines over land Theatrica
And lights my face up for you to see the secrets, lies,
Disgusting hide outs of a ghost that dies.
I barely know yet somehow
I fear that I will lose you soon... will lose you how.
I'm just a side kick of a freak show,
A Siamese and starving cage inhabitant,
That you have stopped by, and looked left and right by
Somehow you made my heart young...
Washed my hands white.
Things you imagine come alive in front of me
Escape from photos, and phonetic krinkle wrappers;
Bridges of grass and brick
Lead to contorted sleeping creatures
- A hunt for painted accusations...
And what a wonderful escape for me.
By Anna Grinevich