Suburban Asphalt - Xerxes

My bed hasn’t seen me since the young summer sun

Watched our cruel blood drive ahead of us

With its hold on our wrists, cold steel and clenched

Two years of warm moons behind us

And I’ve made deep prints in the grey silt

Standing south of the cold stream, bleeding wild

Like the lonely weathered street that should have taken me

I won’t believe I’ve slept

Because the bed I’ve kept is that driven pavement

Droning lullabies that can’t bring me back

And each solstice’s sun another red reminder

Of the youth we should have had

But gave away for the pain and the struggle of finding it on our own

And maybe the streets aren’t paved anymore

With the dying days of our childhood

I’ll waste the sunlight tracing this pavement

For an answer, for some feeling I almost knew

But there’s no answer from the braille of worn asphalt

There’s no response from the lines where our bones broke

With my ear to the floor, I’ll listen for a heartbeat

But the only sound is wheels spinning free

Overturned, eyes closed, stained red

Our home is dead