A pastiche: You breath and then I breath. For a second. We live both together and learn from it.

Breath for a second, feel relieved for ten seconds, wait for the air to circulate in the body and spirit, and then plunge back into the depths of your mind…

Now get lost.

For a second.

This bloody moon is making me feel drowned. This is the last night I will suffer for all.

Everything is going too fast, I could bet your attention in an elementary way to get your hands forever.

Someone please help me, I don’t know what to do anymore, where to go. My head just spins incessantly I want to throw up. I can’t bear thinking, breathing, living. Only some things make me happy for a while, some people can entertain me. But what can I do when nothing else passions me?

That’s why I haven’t understood. Look at me the way I am. Swear me that you are a small kid. It’s not impossible to love truly.

I need to fine myself in all this mess that surrounds me. But however much time I spend alone I just can’t seem to focus on my problems or my emotions. It all turns around her, and I hate her for having caught me so low. Had it just been a simple break up, things would have been much easier to digest. Might it be that reality kills you?

That’s why I haven’ thought, but I have been loved.
Or haven’t I?
Never.


I want to fly, but then again, who doesn’t? I’d like to prove myself to some girl that I can fully trust, someone with whom I can cry and laugh freely without contain, but who? Will I ever again?

Of course and energy will force you to ask what is the end of the moon like?
This is so real.
Injuring yourself like this would let you learn now that we stay together.

I’d love to touch, to feel her close to me. This girl that would be someone right now. Not the right one, but just someone. Warmth, something I miss so much and eager to rediscover as soon as possible.
Wake up in the morning, next to each other. Fool around, spend a day strolling around the world, losing and finding each other again.



Isn’t it what I am doing now? Following around. Waiting what ? To die?

A free love. The more time separate, the more emotion in the next moment together. Where is she? I wish she was on the next corner, I’d run to her. No, I’d fly to her, passing by some flower shop, get a rose.

She knows the way I loved her.

Too cliché maybe? Then, a daisy? A tulip? How about just a kiss? A playful kiss, not just a Hollywood one. A fool around one, a young kiss, fresh as her scent, futile a her look in those deep eyes, her sunny face.


This song was for two, and for more other twos, in me.
I am too far now.