We talk about our sweaty palms,
Cautious, careful to avoid
The slightest touch.
Knees gently bump beneath tables,
I flinch back as a flame,
One I want so badly,
Begins to lick at my heels,
Consuming me.
Memories flood my racing thoughts
As I slip your shirt over my head,
Hair messy from fearful fingers
I have no choice but to keep busy,
Because if I don't,
They might find their way to yours.

I love the way the Earth sings your name
It's like the skies are slowly falling
On piano tiles
That even the deaf can hear.
So pure, so slowly killing and reviving souls
At the same time.

I love the way you play with the wind
Like a child who learns how to play guitar
Sometimes foolishly breaking the strings
Sometimes creating music
That cuts deeply into my soul.

I love the way snow settles on your eyelashes
And how your eyes turn into a Wonderland
Where I don't shrink nor I grow
I just turn into someone
Who perfectly fits
In your world.

I was walking around aimlessly
In my dream last night
When I finally reached the hill
Between the end of the world
And the beginning of it;

And I climbed that hill
While the light was disolving into the dark
And the sky was blue and red
While the trees were silhouettes
Against the dark clouds.

Then the wind started blowing
And I felt sad and happy at the same time;
I closed my eyes and let it take away
Pieces of my restless soul—
I was dying, but never have I felt more alive.

When the last piece was about to fly
I woke and realised—
The wind was you
And I was no longer alive.

Forever cursed to wander
Between death and life.
Forever will I chase the wind
To get my soul back.

I'd break these feelings
Into litlle pieces
Rearrange them with by bare fingers
Into something
That doesn't hurt as much.

I'd put my soul into the streets
Let it be stepped on by million feet
And still
It wouldn't hurt as much.

I'd take your name, your smile your touches
And put them somewhere in some old pockets
And then it won't hurt so much.

But here I am with all these feelings
And they are not into pieces
No
They are not.

And my soul is still inside me
I can feel it burning, stabbing
Oh, oh, it hurts so much!
And your face, your smile and touches
They are are still here, in my pockets.
Oh, they hurt so much.

So I'll take this mirror in front of me
Break it into little pieces
rearrange them with my bare fingers
Into a face that wears a smile.

And I'll pretend
That it doesn't hurt so much.

It doesn't hurt that much.