Friday, 2 December 2011


I have spent my vitality,
against myself, against you,
Where I always put a cross against my chest,
half dreaming to still mar all those who had an eye on you

Come to me,
beneath these tender times,
softer forms,
untouched grounds

When I would  make the babies,
the aroma in my house,
die a scornful death in your arms
till I feel the worth in my womb
and perception in my senses

I have not given up,
and I fly across the land
like you would when you took those fleeting steps
for all that you loved

Now,I have stiched myself to a notorious bed,
and I am waiting for you
to make the most out of ourselves
to redeem to make new

Knife my heart,
for you are my envy,
I cant let you loose

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