With his curly ginger hair, wild like a lions mane,
he just have to give you one look before you go insane.
He knows he is charming and he knows it so well,
that he finds joy in casting this inescapable spell.

His eyes are like the abyss: dark, cold and deep.
They consume the soul, make your mind go to sleep.
He has damaged you already and you think he is your remedy.
If you could just open your eyes and see his true identity.

With a longing for love and hoping it would float,
you went right in his trap to get him: the antidote.
But instead he fed you up with toxic dreams and lies.
Because this is what he is: poison in disguise.

Sometimes I paint outside the framework.
Because even the perfectionist goes berserk.
Just to let the steam out of the system.

Sometimes I dream that my teeth are falling out.
I never know what that is about.
Only to find myself waking up with the feeling of relief.

Sometimes I stare directly into the burning sun.
It is a battle that I have not yet won.
Perhaps a walking stick will accompany me someday.

Sometimes I run with my old loose shoes.
Only to collide with the ground, leaving me with a blue bruise.
I never seem to learn from my mistakes.

Sometimes I apologize, even if it is not my fault.
But I can take the blame. I am tough as asphalt.
I do not mind to say what others are afraid to admit.

Sometimes I wish I could look in the mirror.
See all the things a little clearer.
To greet my reflection with a smile.