I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine

She's abandoned.
She's sick.
She's so sweet,
Her heart is thick.
She's full of flaws,
Scars on every inch of her skin,
She doesn't speak because no one listens.
Depressed but mistaken for happy.
Locks the emotions away when she's angry.
Pleases everyone else without acceptation for herself.
She adopted a lonely spirit,
Whom replaced the one she was born with.
Over time they beat the crap out of her,
She could only feel more alone, then.
She has so many experiences that you just would  not believe.
They'd sound like stories and even more they'd make you feel like you had just gotten beat.
They'd make you feel the need to feel free and alive,
She's been killed and brought back to this devil of her life.
She's been destroyed and put together again so many times,
She doesn't know when it'll end but she's already gone inside.
Her mind is so open you could walk right in.
Have a seat, look around, ask any questions.
You can pick her heart up and she won't even gasp,
Until you drop it and the pieces cut you like glass.
She'll run for the broom and pick it all up,
Sew together that beautiful cut.
She hopes that now she's worthy of your presence and memory.
She wants to be cared for,
She needs company.
Every day is the same for her, nothing ever changes.
The suffering is routine and she hides all the pain.
Even though she's so hurt that she has a knife by her bed,
She can not seem to think of leaving her head.
If someone should come in and sit down and read,
They too,
Will have the knife,
But never be able to leave.

I crave you
But it makes me blue
You don't need me
But you won't leave
You play this game
That drives me insane
You're my day n night
This love's a plight
You make my mind muddle
Lets cuddle
You have my whole being
But you're fleeing

If I could breath fire,
I'd inhale,
And never let it go,
Just to feel alive again,
Just to feel like I was burning
with passion like I used to.

Each must fulfill their own destiny
or drown in the seas of a fantasy.

Basically,
because being base is what we know
we'd all prefer the fantasy and
for destiny to go.

The oceans run red with the blood of the dead,
fish fingers for supper tonight.
I have drunk of the wine
upon death I shall dine
fish fingers for supper tonight.

Each night,
take to boats and
they're rammed down their throats,
freedom's not free, but they try,
some make it through,
some of them die,
more take to boats
and they try and they try
and some of them die,
freedom's not free,
not for them,
not for you,
not for me.

It must be a heresy
this thing they call destiny
I shall stick to my fantasy
and it's
fish fingers for supper tonight.