My cat is alarming the daylight every single rotten day.
I wake up chocking from the un flickering dream,
Numb and kinda nervous, still watching the leftovers
Of characters fighting the path, back into reality.
All my nights since my life began revolving around my addictions
I patronized them, I begged them, I bribed them, what I did or what I not...
Exclusively the ordinary: buying flowers, candies,
Slot machines, **** videos, riding on elephants,
Cornering the cliffs, eating spiders, smoking ***
And beaming at the stars while they were changing music covers
Aside me, in slippers, house dresses and chewing cockies outta space,
Between a tooth and the next one located at five minutes array.
So you cannot call in my nature as a bee. Or not to bee.
All the **** that you can do or not in dreams, I did.
Results presumptuous. As all dreams are.
Vague ends fishing the tale of monster Colombre.
He's old and he's lounging in Poseidon's trident,
Into the space between the waves of gravity
Along with the pearl promised to every human being ,
As long as they are clapping hands for fairies not dying
And children's bed time stories that never lasts enough,
At every gasp they take when something murderous
Is happening while mothers turning into stone are reading,
The horrors of daily news at9 clock whisky .
For a first, they enter into the deem reality
My imaginary ghostlike friends. I waved them farewell, at last.
I don't wanna spend more time buying crickets or entertaining Terpsichore.
Now I'm busy writing songs about them, eating space cookies with a little prince and feasting on crickets with Maruska.
How did we get this far apart, we used to be so close together
How did we get this far apart, I thought this love would last forever.
Aug 13, 2013
Aug 13, 2013 at 4:21 AM UTC
Can you hear the strange noise in my heart? It makes vrruuuum, vrruuuum , vrruuuum every time you nap fondly on my pillow.
My heart is a spy, tic tac by the clock, carrying the breeze in the ball of a thumb, while 's quietly de flowering your dreams, layer by layer.
As if exists a collection of you in the ******* of mankind !
A small brute , the naughty child playing kalasnikov games and puzzlling the answers, the teenager tucking the drums, loud in all radios and smashing pumpkins on nirvanaheads spooning on MDMA flying .
The grown up's ready for work, bored as Peter Pan growing and sometimes funny when life's a ***** I just saw you drinking Madeira wine in public toilets, splashing *** on your toes while dreaming in rainbows of plastic.
I'm the frame of your dream. I'm here to take care of you while you're the squeeze of the petals and the whistle into the sound of the music.
Aug 12, 2013
Aug 12, 2013 at 7:56 AM UTC