there i was again
sitting with my loved one sippin on tea.
mint i think.
there was no time left to think. she was beautiful
and the trip turned slowly in as i was writing dull stuff on a big sheet of paper.
she showed her pens wich where as kind and
colorful as her hair.
she‘s an artist you know
doing this shit for a long time now
not knowing a different way of life a different state of mind.
a sip of tea. mint i think.
as ashes fall down like the edges of our minds
or just mine.
is she as fucked as me,
or just having a good time
being on this fucked up planet of ours.
as i wonder if i hold a cigarette or a pen i write on. read on.
as i bore you to death i realize that i feel good.
here. in her arms.
i imagine this is all to the big why‘s in this universe.
try to focus as my mind, ears, eyes, do whatever they want,
maybe suppose even. hope?
ghost she answers and i believe her.
ghosts!
how ridiculous.
then i see the paper moving
cold sweat and burning hands
hellfire drips from my tongue like stalactites
perversion, fear, love, warm.
just a thought, killed by another. just a child.
just loneliness. just ordinary madness.
just thursday.
