I Drank Five Gallons of Oasis

It was the summer of pot smoke And summer fruits oasis, Stiff collarbones bruised plum And a toilet full of piss. And a blood stained crack Through a mouldy impression As a cherry rots in the ribcage Of a mother's storm and blessing. It was the summer of blackberries And fingers calloused by guitar strings, The girls that prayed for falling stars, paper bag queens, glass bottle kings. Bloody knees splatter the concrete Beg for new bones and an iron chest, to trap that burning inferno, Settled inside an unwanted guest. It was the summer of Studded belts And hands caught in tills. Noses that ran red For the princess of excess On a throne of pills and thrills. Bill withers sings Ain't no sunshine As the walls Begin to melt Irises turn black For the cards Are already dealt. It was the summer of bandaged elbows, Cigarette smoking pawn shop angels With all the time in the world Before their ending, wet cheeked and painful. A God and a girl in a staring contest, with their chins touching the floor, Both begging so desperately for belief Pleading to be seen as something more.