All I can offer is my boredom;
Everything else is already taken.
All my truths and myths,
What would be left
If I gave them away?

Piece by piece
My incompletude defines me.
My senses are left untouched,
My wounds, unhealed,
My thoughts, preserved
In an obscure way.

I give myself away,
And the more I give
The more I see,
The more I am.

When I'm lost
Nothing matters,
Just then can I discover myself.
Nothing more
Than a pool of desires,
Drowning,
Lifting,
Joking desires.