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You, my creation, my art,
you every throb...
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Around three in the morning
your soul was still fluttering...
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Empty
empty...
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It seems
my soot...
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Penalty shoot outs
turned grown men into instant...
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I wake up daily wondering if today will be the day
that my life ends or if I'll be cursed in another...
-
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slipping
slipping...
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I'm drowning in this rubble
What my life has accumulated...
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The thought hits me sometimes
like a bolt from the blue, that...
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It's morse code
Between two thumping hearts...
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Our days are numbered
As our time unwinds...
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I like the time between our visits.
Not because I believe 'distance makes the heart...