Not the bitter kind, no.
Far from it actually.
Maybe it is the eye of the storm
Or the silence after the closing credits rolled up,
I will never really know.
In this vortex of mixed signals and miscalculated worst-case scenarios,
I know I am supposed to find a way out of your world
And force myself to walk on desserts
Or swim through rivers just to be safe from your shadow.
But strange as it may seem,
I have just managed to run away a little and now I stop.
The ignition on my feet is not responding, the chords were cut from my brain.
It did not consume me enough.
I could not taste the blood from my punctured lips.