Amare et sapere vix deo conceditur

[Indie]

V:3 (Billy)
It creeps and trickles down the walls of my mind
Through the crevasses of yesterday Why a crevasse and not a crevice? I am just curious.
Where it lingers like the sickly sweet stench
Of rose gardens rotting after torrential rain I love the imagery of rotting roses.
It’s here I find you
It’s here you find me
Sapphires for eyes behind pagan masks
That send us reeling into the past.

You’re reaching out while I’m letting go
I no longer melt under your melancholy gaze
In the cold dawning of realisation
Remembering when I would crawl to you through
Blackberry thickets
And fields of poison ivy
Just to hear your voice
Sweet and consuming, overwhelming my senses
A hallucinogenic heaven

Ghosts for memories brush my skin
Leave it chilled and shivering
My heart beating, a caged and clipped bird I really like the added "clipped" to the cliche, strengthens it.
That can feel you near, always here
Like an unwanted sprite I think sprite sounds too friendly, like a jolly fairy.
Poking through the bars in beautiful antagonism
The feigned innocence of your eyes
And the heady perfume of your voice
Unable to hide the devilish mischief
Barely concealed in curve of your smile.

A scar sits on my heart
Ugly and brash, born of impulse and thistles
Where I’ve tried to erase the ink
That bled there in my sleep
Tattooing your name upon my soul
That no bleach nor blade can bleed away Nice flow!
While no amount of forgetting will ever procure
A fondness for the way things used to be Mmm, I think "fondness" is a bit weak sounding, although maybe you were going for that.
When innocence reigned, naivety
Held no shame, and hope was beautiful.

And still the realm of yesterdays I think it would be better non-plural, with "drips"
Drip into my brain like medieval water torture
As memories and dreams light up the sky
Creating faux constellations I like the imagery.
That I could have fallen in love with
In another time and place
Before adulthood beckoned
And I began to grow into myself Love this line.
Much to the horror of us
While leagues of mentally laced barb-wired fencing I think this line is a bit over-stuffed with words.
Cannot keep me from floundering in the scent
Of the days that got lost, before our garden of roses
Slipped into the mire of rot.

And now
No amount of love can save us from ourselves.

I really enjoyed reading it. Lots of fantastic imagery with a fantasy feel to it.

thanks for your feedback Universal. I used crevasses instead of crevice to indicate multiple memories and experiences, as the past is made up of many, rather than just one, which would be a crevice. I made a conscious choice on yesterdays and drip, and plan on keeping that way, as it fits my aesthetic for this piece.

There are quite a few lines in here that I have/and still am struggling with. The barbed wire line is such a line that I haven't yet been able to remedy. I'm taking some time out from this piece for a bit to get some perspective before I jump into another edit.

Thanks again.