The cause of my reasons has no similarity to your thoughts and suffering
Your lips don’t move my mind and focus stays primarily on the background
Your eyes don’t reach me, I lied before in that unforgivable way and unfortunately I don’t see you  
I see only with my blood, pressured with rage through my veins
And images, oh those reprobate veils under which you feed of me,
you tragically disregarded mirror, a misunderstood projection of someone who was someone, maybe myself, a long time ago.
Disoriented I thole, not knowing is getting too familiar.

The touch you give me, it’s angry, feels nothing in return
The touch becomes nothing and all falls together
Eyes, words, a hand, a soul
Begin to crumble under a table, glasses long before emptied
In hope to make you meet my eyes in the moment I should meet yours
In hope to make you touch me and in return feel the warmth
In hope to make you make me say the words you want to hear
I don’t know if you’re real but you’re more real than me  
I know that for sure.