fell into heaven

the TV looks like a window
and the ceiling looks like a door
and the wall looks like a feeling
that i never wanted before
and the floor looks like a border
that is holding me from knowing
that the window looks like a wall
with a mural that's always showing
a world that looks so dead
but lights up with life and lies
painted on the passing cars
speeding by...breaking ties
and the door looks like a hole
calling me to go outside
running after all my chances
to break and not abide
to all the rules and traffic laws
that try to guide me through the street
through molecules  and perfect flaws
refusing to admit defeat
the street looks like a movie still
a film noir love affair
the corner store looks like a girl
a femme fatale with bleeding hair
her lips look like a flute of wine
crashing to the floor
her neck tastes like a tremor
of a lions final roar
her line that curves to the ground
looks like an open heart
that shadows me so i can bare
the light that breaks apart
all the lies that let me be
a hero and a dreamer
making love to empty air
that looks like i believe her
when she tells me that i look like
every second that she dreamt
when she was just a girl
and shook herself
with the tempt
of the fantasy
that some man would be
the answer to her dreams
and for a night
i may be
every truth
she ever deems
to be what she wanted
before i disappear
and look just like a wall
that's sprayed and tagged with fear
and though i look like i am hiding
i am only standing still
in the middle of a world
that is out for the kill
and though i walk away
i never really left
I'm still lying on the couch
holding tight to a theft
that occurred the night before
when she stole what i believed
and turned it on it's head
with no chance to be relieved
forcing me to face
everything that i see
as being something different
then what i thought was me
the TV looks like a window
and the ceiling looks like a door
and as i trip and fall
through a vacant floor
i see that she is watching
and leaps into the air
we blow up like independence
without a single care
of what anyone is seeing
or what we seem to be
just see that we're alive
and maybe even free
and as we come together
she tastes just like the sky
breaking open crashing planes
that just won't say goodbye
and maybe I'll keep dreaming
and maybe she was real
and maybe I'm a homeless man
just looking for a meal
but maybe pixilated
liquid courage
is so true
and maybe I'm hallucinating
metaphors
of you
and maybe I don't know
who i am anymore
because TV looks like a window
and the ceiling looks like a door
but maybe that's the way it is
the way it's meant to be
that nothing's what i thought it was
and I'm not really me
and maybe that's just what you meant
when i tasted all your tears
your mouth became a window
and ceilings disappeared
and all the worlds came to an end
and all illusions were true
in that hour of hell
i fell into heaven
and she looked
like
only
you