Sky and stars.

All the sky was clean
and selfish
but all the stars hooked up
with these dusty images
looking up instead of down
at the page in the sky
left open by
everything
so perfect and plastic
especially
after the sick twisted and tragic
dressing everything up
so easy to understand
for the small ones who really knew
from the start
when God began
held there hand
and death was just a smell on the shelf
that was stopped from happening.

and so hang up
because I did everything I wanted to do
all the ghosts start whispering to me
my disfunctunal life or death
in the images of myself
I am the one without sky
wearing a heart round my neck
but it could mean a dice
and for once its not mine
its someone elses spine
no skin of my back
because shot across my path is black
and thats all that was smacked.

As the sky was blue
and the stars turn black
I plan to run home to you
and the troubled tragic
who will collect the pieces of my time
when Im dead or when Im alive
but the stars just twinkle at me
as if to wink
my life couldnt turn much quicker
not even for my shrink
and I told them I dared them
to look at me straight
without my skin become frayed
from being stretched across the board
of how I should act, react and
raise my hand
I still dont get it
life is forever.

so all the sky starts to seek fire
and the stars squeeze out blood from power
every suite is sitting on each cloud
but now theres no people left to cash
and sell to crowds
like a puppet on a rope
tell me what to say
instead of every no
ill say what I said
at the beginning
with the snow, sun and sanctuary
this isnt happening
life is only the skinning.