there's someone in my head – but it's not me

do you recall the past?

the big bird, flapping its wings over us, letting

us know what tomorrow’s plans for us were?

there is no going back now, no better approach;

all we are is all we’ll ever be;

the coming of the 7 years of lust is further than ever;

I’ll never feel your breath against my collar bone again

I’ll never get to touch the inside of your thighs

I’ll never feel your fingers running down my spine again;

there is no hope in the flapping of the new turned-into-a-butterfly-bird

there is no chance ahead;

curling on your back-bone, alone and frightened

lies the image of a younger me, boldly smiling and

blowing smoke through the open window of

your curse

follow me – you should

caress me – you must

understand the villain inside my mind

troubled and sad

alone and in pain

I walk in silence, touching the wall;

once more – I’ll never be clean again

farewell

Posted on August 7, 2012 at 2:37 pm in The 7 Years of Lust   |  RSS feed |   Reply   |   Trackback URL