sunnudagur, október 24, 2010
amber p. soft 24-99
honest feelings in a bubble crying for death dying for tyr spanks in a ship shipping in your home what i mean is all i know what i feel is all i waste for something or someone in a boat going away to a world of ice mounting a horse with wings of cellophane paper tries to fly inside a pocket of roses smelling like numbers inside a cage dreaming of bubbles inside a pocket full of bubbles and innocent music boxes singing beautiful nonsense they are happy you came they feel it deep they want you and your teeth thay want you and your letters closing in
they smile, you die, they smile, you die
you fall deep, you dig your own tomb, you dress yourself in higienic paper, roll in a ground full of it, you take your children to a safe place - or at least think you do-, then you handshake the polyethylene and say you're pleased to be in that place
full of bubbles and innocent music boxes
singing beautiful nonsense
pressing the walls to find your wasted self
rushing through the closing doors
of yourself
that you yourself has closed
and locked yourself:
half inside
half outside
can't get in
can't get together
can't rest in peace
rafael at 12:55 f.h.