Rocking chair

In the light
of my
room
my lover
still
cast shadows.
What’s the point
of memories
if you can`t
live or die
in them?
Words
on the wall.
Sweat
on the ceiling.
Love
in my glass.
I pure it out.
My Regrets
on her finger.
A ring
stands for eternity.
What’s the point
of life
if you
can`t
live or die
in it?
Blood
on my shirt.
Puke
in my throat.
Scars – everywhere.
You just
can`t see.
What’s the point
of having
a soul,
if it can`t
dance,
cry,
scream,
laugh
And die?
Time
makes the old
forget
who they are.
But not
what they have missed.
I won`t get
cold,
 old,
lonely,
if I can prevent it

 

 

 


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