Slowly we peel away the layers and the light seeps through the cracks.
You whispered softly in my ear "the birth of morning`s upon us, dear,"
the bandages feel upon the floor.
And there was no one in that room.
It`s quiet down the hallway where the doctors wash their hands.
Behind my eyes I feel the hollow jabs of your morphine kiss.
Your anesthetic voice is autographed upon my bones.
This reception died in vein.
In vain.
A tarnished angel leaves her ghost on the surface.
A jealous daughter starves to death for the mother
as I awaited your return.
I wait for your return.
It seems the only way that I will ever feel alive.
Throw myself into my injuries and close my eyes.
I`d give anything to feel alive.
And I will wait for you tonight.
The scalpel carves a map for you.