i'm breaking it
down into pieces,
these strange encounters
when the clock strikes three

a wanderlust
not of the foot, but this lie-fed mind
elevating curiosity, of the safest spots
hinting the edges of the unknown

am i the biggest fool?
thinking that my dreams are too big
to fit in this bottle, eyes fixed on me
are my dreams too big for this small town?

know that you're home
but i discovered wheels
is it the call of my heart
or a shout of escape?

do i accept, and let it be:
the bar set low below my neck
or should i step inside an outside place
the city, and the lights, shrinking behind me.

love is dark; a universe. a cluster of stars
so close, yet so out of reach
a glimmer of hope for something to reach us back.

when i'm inside your orbit
south is up, north is west
radiating the never-ending decay

say, what is it like up there?
overseeing countless cities of competition
of who's the brightest?

there's no true north.
no inside or out. just, just you
and me, and the lunar sunsets

love is empty. love is distant.

she's the tender glow of the gloomy moon;
pale and vibrant and emphatic
it's her eyes that made this withered garden bloom
this rose's breaths are erratic-
eighteen was her name, her smile was embracing
and her age is my childhood love:
it's always young, and it does not displace
she is coming, she was here

i am weak
i just feel so ******* tired
so goodnight

one plus one                  will always be two
one plus two,                you hate me do you?
two plus three,              has it always been me?
three plus five,              i want to see what you hide.
five plus eight,              we fulfilled our fate
then there's eight plus thirteen.
if you stop, how do i begin?
for one plus no-one will never be two.

step. one, two
one foot away from you
blink. three, four
just what you got in store?
stop. five, six
there's nothing i can't fix
breathe. seven, eight
but surely, you can wait?

































think. nine, ten
you'll wait until when?

i intend to say
i'm good, i'm ok
i fix wounds, i make them heal

but can this doctor
cry for help
as his patients cry for him?

when he heals
someone else
rather than fix what really kills

it's only up to my imagination
what kind of pain really there is
under a wound on your skin