My words are not water.
They do not flow...
You and I will deny the smoke, dust, rotting
carcases that hiss underneath our boots. Storm...
I look into your eyes
trying to find the truth...
Between us mars and venus
and the virtue of wanting more...
You have the eyes of a solider
and a merciful heart...
Take the knife and cut away the bindings
tightened over years of misuse and oppression...
Just like you, I'm imprisoned.
Cornered by the collection...
First, I was a can of soda,
bubbly and sweet...
My transparent heart just wants
cliches, lies and the eternal abandonment...
No sound opens the walls
and lies down in the room...
All you should think about
is the pressure...
I tried to find myself
(static once more today...