Thursday, 11 August 2011

Like a rolling stone

I've been taking all my ghosts and deliberate them, a fight without cause, a fight for one. and the answer that calls me at night is just a broken smile, not a sure smile or a no-feeling outstanding new life. it's the same you that brings this little laugh but is just inside out, honey. I'm quit confusing, I know it well, but in some place inside my madness, it rests a hope that creeps my mind out every time I look at your freed wings. baby, you're a rolling stone. it's about a piece of hope that only exists in a part of my confusion. afterwords, this drag in your neck, this silent goodbye, this tear that regrets in my good part, it's just to say that it's not always this way. that vese that keeps me wake every single night: maybe she knows something I don't know. you know something I don't know. and I just can't seem to learn. yes! I'm a fucking mess but I'm a beatle, intead. classical and too sentimental, running just to call, living just to poetry. Needing a little sadness to survive, to write, to live. Being a rolling stone, it's the missing part! is it? is you? would you? ...

Wednesday, 3 August 2011

Tumbling down

to Jack

keep me in silence, let this avalanche of broken feelings behind. in some part of my madness, I wonder why being human if I can't accept myself as one of them. but, you know, there's a part of this red box that keep telling me, like a surrender, that 'maybe', like the crying of lot G, what would it be, anyway? its like a painting. you see what you want to see, the truth is behind your eyes, the panic inside your head and the meaning in all around. and when you came to me, I was so scared reaching for some smile to change my life course. but see, Jack... let all this bullshit behind, like you did it once. in this vacuum, I only want to reach for faith. cause there's no more space in my throat for nodes. my pride will tear anything apart. and any feeling too. I got nicotine in my eyes to blind me over, to rest my disease, to roll this sea of human feelings and to shot in my own paradigms to make them all smoke. to fill me now, to breath it out, to transmute my lack of faith in one dance left to some hope, or... take my hand, take it now and dance me to the end of love, baby. be here to take my silence away or leave. but leave me like I was your worst mind damage

(about the pain of being a hopeless unbeliever)

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