i'm surrounded by
maybe‘s and
false hopes,
unreal possibilities of
me and you,
kissing on a roofop in new york,
while the sun is just
above the horizon,
the moon still in sight,
me, holding your cold hand,
warming it up with
the coldness of my soul,
and after a peaceful moment,
you'll shot a smile at me,
and it will be
the bullet that pierces
through my soul and
kills me greatly.