Petal Palette of the Past?

I thought that you were hard to love
Like sewing a butterflies wings
Like exorcising ghosts by bringing back the dead
There’s honesty, and then there’s being cruel
I never meant to is the worst kind of deceit
Love melting into scars
Emptiness strangling the stars…
I thought your eyes were brown, when the road fell away behind us –
That dried up town in the rear view, where we tossed dirt onto the demons
But all I see is grey, casting shadows on your shadows
Rusted memories twisted round you
Pelting undertow threatening to drown you
I thought that I could take away your pain –
But I guess I don’t know how to
And killing time won’t devastate what’s devastated you
Demons’ bones in piles, but specters still gloating, spinning pompous smiles…
Grind the perverse gristle into broth –
Swallow down what’s edible, and leave the rest to rot…
Messenger eyes upon you, beak thrusted toward a hazardous moon
Naming you their kind –
Just like I sensed, the first time…
Feathers left in cobbled nests
Of thread and twigs, and torn, half written words of love in purple passages…
I’ll sew your wings, stitch them deep and strong, through your skin into your bones
So you can soar through sunflower galaxies, then I’ll whisper you back home
Let my body be your soft earth, where you can kneel down to pray
My eyes like liquid runes, spelling out you’re not alone
Those infestations gestating chaos in your abstract mind –
Come, give all that to me
I’ll paint it into words only for your ears –
Ten thousand juicy valentines…
We’ve had trouble staying on the road
Broken glass and crunched, metal-punctured dreams
Grapes dead on the vines –
We’ve dragged our scraped up hearts behind
But oh… the way you taste…
Like licking honey from the comb
I want to inhale all your words, all your sweetness, all your wounds
And oh… the way you hurt…
It sucks the marrow from my bones
Until I ache and bleed for you…
I gave up trying to understand what fate made clear so long ago
I thought that you were hard to love
But maybe it was me?
It’s 3am and the snow just keeps falling… falling… falling…
The cities lights make me feel melancholy, just like you often do
I think that sadness fills me with an absinthe bliss, like being stoned on poppy stew
And I’m sorry for the harsh words, and I’m sorry that I’ve been unkind
And I’m waiting, and at every turn –
You’re on my mind