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
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