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

torn between illusions and reality

between her lust and the sadness of the years past

I stretch out my hand, trying to touch the end of her shoulder,

there – right where I should have been, yesterday, tomorrow,

every now and again

Sit! Please sit down! Tell me nothing you said was true;

nothing you ever did was real; tell me the shotgun-bang-like thoughts

I came across these past 7 years – were nothing more but mere absence,

lack of yourself within my feeling, my dreams, my self

whereas my calf was touching the grass – nothing of you ever came

in close contact with anything familiar;

grains of pain, all over my mornings –

poured into tall glasses, served cold;

have you ever thought of the day after?

wandering by, wind in your hair, red hint of whiskey-like emotions

passing by everything ever to have been meaningful

I replicate the need to run

falling aside

there’s nothing between those walls

to make me change my mind

there’s nothing closer than your cold touch

within my wild imagination drifting

fire away!

I won’t stand in your

path

Posted on August 14, 2012 at 2:49 pm in The 7 Years of Lust   |  RSS feed |   Reply   |   Trackback URL