keep coming up


This city is sunny.
Over there it’s probably raining again.

I can’t believe that you can’t see.
Who you are, who I am.

when I’m given what I want I start to question what is it that I want.
A story, beautiful one. And it’s ruined already. Saddened by distrust and blindness.

I continue being afraid, of so many things. One after another, at the same time.
And I’m profoundly tired of the me that I am, and yet I cannot discard it, let it be lost. SO many things are lost already.

You are uncapable of explaining yourself.
Uncapable of really trusting, or seeing.

I am uncapable of bending, I rather brake.

I really really try. To give time.
But I need to give more for myself.
I hear that you are right on that.

Why are apologies so difficult.
To admit that it was wrong. I was wrong. I’m sorry.

Insanity has such a different forms.

Dance, leather, I was never good with practical work. Never had the patience to practice practice practice.
Leave things undone, unfinished. halfway.

I have less and less to write, but much to say. But I’m far from convinving.

And you, with your smile and sincerity, go around the world, get invited, like you should.
and because you are far enough, or too far, it’s impossible to be envious to you.

Things don’t clear.
I’m waiting.
for all to pass.

Tale to tell?

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