Some times I wish
If I will end like a poem after couple of lines.
With broken stanza,  rhythm unfinished.
Some nights I found myself as extraterrestrial,
in Mars, in Jupitar then
lost across the Kuiper belt
So far from the horizon.
Some time I wish
If it's become true
that i never been here myself exist.

Kiss me
And you will see
I'll take you to a world
Where you don't want to be
And I will make you
Feel
If nothing subsist
If no one is
If we are
A taste of death

i can't read your words right now
how can i read anything
when i can hardly think
one foot in front of the other
i can't see what's in front of me
how
am i supposed to seek asylum
in your words
how
am i supposed to grab ahold of something
i can't conceive
i'm not here right now
and i apologize
as existing is an obligation
you can't back out of
you cant be
without being there
yet i'm existing
and i don't know where

Do you ever want to be naive?
Yearn to be in those moments when you were foolish
Before knowledge tainted our innocence

Will I ever prove that I exist? What do I exist as?

I may try and be a shadow to you
trying to protect you from the scorching heat,
but will I ever know that you're a night wanderer?

I may try to be the rainbow
for the silver lining in your storm,
but will I know that you constantly live in a drought?

I may even be a nightingale
filling your ears with music divine,
but when will you tell me that you are deaf?
Deaf to my yearnings and my cries,
and blind towards the tears
that wouldn't come out of my eyes.
Deaf to the rhythm my heart beats for you,
And yet I keep making the music.
I keep making the music.

I keep making the music,
perhaps to prove that I exist.
But what decides existence?
Do I exist?

I exist in nostalgia,
when people remember their first true loves.
I exist in memoirs,
of the greatest rivals they made.
I exist as the guidelines,
of the way they shouldn't live their lives.
I exist in their sensations,
illuminating how comforting a touch should be.

Yet I need to prove that I exist.
Why?