Did you know when you posed for that photo
That it would represent my sincerest dreams?
Did you know, posing, letting yourself go
That you would represent all of love's themes?

There's a picture I can't look away from
With simplicity of your innocence.
There's a picture of what love can become
With simplicity, strength and elegance.

Your lines and curves and perfection of shape
Transport my soul and take hold of my gaze.
Your lines of your chest o'er shoulder and nape
Transport my soul to see beauty and praise.

You are the picture I paint in my head
Of beauty that only exists in thought.
You are the picture I dream of in bed.
Of beauty that I have forever thought.

Pictures manipulate a delicate eternity
We live less like dreams after red winter love
always behind the vision of summer
Never after the gone day flood

"For every shot taken is merely a remnant of the most beautiful."

Portrait or Landscape,

was a question I had. As I took my stride
by the sunset, each step closer to decide:

If I should choose to line her by the horizon,
if her smile would grace the far lazing firmament?
Or have me content; to fit her full by the screen,
to fix her eyes upon me: A never ending entrancement.

Or if I should at all risk pauses in between? An endeavour,
a plausible reasoning to paste eternal; to capture every moment.

I disagreed.

So I put my camera down and lived the moment.

I can't grasp your moving picture
When you were the director
Of my life's lovely scripture
You were the connector
To a screen that dug deep
Your image makes me weep
Your image scares me to sleep
So I may dream of you
And a world for two
When in reality
You are one
And I am none
So I tell triumphant stories to myself
Like the past glories of someone else
I direct movies in my mind
My brain always on rewind
To a time I crossed a line
Painful memories to remind
I don't know what I'm doing
When your picture keeps moving

In my mind film keeps burning
In your mind film keeps turning
Life is tough without you
But that's because life is tough
And now you're just another part
Me another broken heart
I was dealt my cards
They got me this far
Then shattered to shards
Like the film of you
That hit the cutting room floor
The moment you walked out the door

I developed strife
From the memories I edited
In your life
Will I be credited?

Blood wounds.
Smell of euphoria outside.
Today is Saturday.
I'm here bitting my tongue
And I'm going to listen to the talk of my fake friends.

Why they are you so afraid of getting old?

I will then go downstairs in that room where there are people with hot skins.
And I'm going to dance alone.

These pretty girls are so boring.
Everyone wants to die as heroes.
But people will continue to talk with their white teeth like snow.
I will continue to dance alone.

I'll be my best friend.
I will forget that people were born to die.
But people will continue to talk.


I feel so alone.
At the same time the smell of this feeling was so good.

I'm going to take sleeping pills.
I will continue to bite my tongue.

I never wanted to go back here.
I like to live in romance with my dreams.

I'm lying on the floor listening to their noise from above.

Here seems that no one is good enough.
It's funny and scary but I've never felt so alone.

But I'm going to keep dancing and let people talk.
In the house of a million dreams without fears.

Suddenly everything seemed so beautiful.
So I went downstairs to take pictures of everyone's dreams.
To remember that I'm going to continue a girl without life.

And I have died
softly
a million deaths -
drowning,
bleeding,
choking.
And yes, I remembered you.
I have found you
in the pictures,
in the screams
of broken tables
in the ghosts
and in the glass ceilings...
You were with me
every time
I died.