Today the time has stopped for me.
I'm sitting on the floor
consuming sadness-flavored meal
with tiny spoon and straw.
I swallow memories like cake
and sip my dreams like tea.
Not really sure if I'm awake
but still alive, indeed.
I'm looking up with my head down
with eyes that widely closed.
And trying make myself undone
pretending, I suppose.
The water dripping on my face
and on my fingertips.
Ice-cream like frost creating lace
around my breathless lips.
The day no longer I get through -
and I'm not telling lies.
Just counting drops from broken roof
with psychopatic eyes.
I'm not in here and not out there
(no worries - I'm just fine).
I am again about to dare
start pouring venous wine.
Today the time will die for me...
I'll take it with no fuss.
You wonder what this death will mean?
No meaning - just because.
Psychopathic
© Copyright: Indigo, 2015
Свидетельство о публикации №115092301938
Свидетельство о публикации №115092301938
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