Sometimes the most unusual things happen … a snowstorm in August, a sudden eclipse of the sun, shooting stars that fill the nightsky, alien abductions, my darkened and withered heart is being touched …
Yeah, that happens every other century or so – and today it seems like the century is over. I’m not sure wether to grin like an idiot or to shake my head in amazement and wonder.I always thought that I can’t be “read”, was somewhat proud of the fact that I am unpredictable – because that what I’m being told all the time.
And now … now Kamilla has been sweet enough to contact me, because she thinks I should know about these lyrics. As it turns out, there is somebody who doesn’t even need to look at me to read my mind, my thoughts, my soul … who looks right through my facade, takes me apart and makes me enjoy this all the time.And who has turned this into a poem … a song … and leaves me sitting here in front of my screen, filled with wonder and being at a total loss as to how (and what) to think …What the hell is going on? Thanks a million, Elliot.I missed you!
Lady Lovecraft
Dear Lady Lovecraft, or would you rather be Katrin? Did you hear your name being carried over seas? Could you sense the attachment in the memoirs that were sent? Or did I ever string together the words I meant to say. I keep your insights in a bell jar on the shelf, like your brilliance set aside and preserved because I love them. I keep my eyes open until night divorces day, because I know you would have wanted it that way.
I’m so hard to remember, but so easy to forget. remember me as a time of day. Should the sun be coming up, should you be unable to sleep, remember me to pieces and throw them all away.
Dear Lady, the leaves are turning colors I never thought I’d see from the confines of my Lockjaw swollen heart. I would give the moon just to see your face. I drift through skies of chemical suit, forget-me-not blue. Where speech fails, I suppose silence compensates.
One of these repetitive days, we’ll walk the halls of our similar ways, with whatever flowers at our bedsides while silence plays. And you’ve no idea how hard it is to capture you in song, Because I’ve learned you can’t be captured much at all.
When it’s dark, I think of you. And when it rains, I think of you. When I can’t sleep, I think of you. But I don’t need it in return. It’s funny though, that despite myself, I can’t see the Apocalypse without somehow seeing you.
You don’t believe in goodbyes, so I don’t believe in goodbyes. Let’s sleep away eternal ties.
I’ll see you in the morning.
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