I open the night with a cigarette.
The only thing throwing light on my face in the dark, falls like stars on the broken, walked tiling along blind alleys.
My kiss with the cigarette is more intimate than with his lips, more affectionate towards my inner than his touch.
If the sidewalk was a metaphor it would indicate my thoughts spoiled walk.
In the darkness I find peace in the chaos we created.
I become a chain smoker when he infiltrates my night vision and I forget where I am walking.
The only road home is through ash clouds searching for the light at the end of the tunnel.

My veins are spread under my skin like a family tree
My ancestors run through these life roads that I stem from
I once tried looking for myself in them
but as the thick blood ran down my arms I saw nothing
I just wanted someone to see that I am not them
I am me
So when you look at my closed eyes
and the purple veins on my eyelids are the only thing you can see
tell me that you know me better than anyone else
because I cannot find myself
between all these crooked branches.

The only people I want in my veins are you and I

Kunne jeg bare formidle mine tanker der myldrer som myrer ned på papir så du kunne se mit rod og mine ord ville du måske elske mig. Jeg er bange for at miste alt og alle men især dig når klokken tikker mod morgenstunden og jeg ikke har lukket et øje. Tankerne sværmer som fluer på en alt for varm sommerdag mens jeg skøjter hen over billeder og snubler over dig. Mine tanker går med at tænke på dig men du tanker aldrig bilen så jeg lader dig går over isen i håb om at du falder over ordene jeg elsker dig.