miercuri, 22 februarie 2017

Insomnia (VI)

I am a serial dreamer -
You are there, listening and caring
and it all seems familiar
and I am comfortable with that dream,

but then I wake up in a twisted existence
where I send sunsets over the ridge;
there are still no pictures hanging on my walls,
just a large, open window

I could trade winter for
a long rain running into spring
but you would have to let me go,
so that I can fly higher

When I quit smoking back then
I worried about nothingness;
my free hands shaking,
my heart wide-open

When I quit dreaming these days
I fill quiet thoughts with emptiness
and start smoking wandering through
dead leaves and dying forests.

I loved you well before you knew
and I shall love you after you forget

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