fantastikal - 31. Janvāris 2009
31. Janvāris 2009
Sestdiena, 31. Janvāris 2009 18:07
you're set against a wall
cold and hard, wrought of stone
to you the other side
is blank. you stand alone.

lie and spit to save face
i soak up the bitter words
you think i'm still a bird
while you're slashing downwards

my vision stretches further

i am playing. these are
my masks, my theatre
and I will keep my role
silent, safe if i want to.

my vision stretches further

i.. i mustn't touch you
mustn't hear you. mustn't place my lips next to yours...
scared to start revulsion
then, who knows, will this fever ever cease?
will this fever ever end?

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