Hey, boy, I'm losing my mind even though I don't even know you. I'm waiting for you to stop by me. Know that I see you when you pass me. This is the love I dream of. But isn't this just a fantasy of my lonely soul. I have no answer. I have no memory. Just a complicated tangle of reality and conjectures. Whenever I stare at you, I see (or imagine) how tenderly you look at me. I would like to talk to you, if I had the courage, I would try to tell you that I want you and never go through it again. I know you were there - alone - and you saw too much.
The headlights glowed furiously to keep you away. And guilt flooded me because I didn't want you to see that. You couldn't even ask. I will explain. I have long wanted to end my meetings with this man. He watched his mother leave in her last days, and it dragged on long and painfully. And when someone tells you / now I am left with only you / you want to be good - although damaged. I wanted to be good, I knew the time would come. Just to persevere. And you have no way of knowing. I understand - he is light years ago, but he is still a man and his drama is great. I'm not making excuses, I'm just explaining. And what I feared happened. I'm looking for your eyes, to hinder me from every corner, but they are gone. You stopped looking for me. And I can't imagine my life without you, I know that you also make an effort to stay away from me and forget. And when I saw you today, you were no longer alone. She hurried after a nimble lady, convinced that she was being followed. How familiar. The hunter in you had shot Mortality.
I almost understand - loving love, but also security. You want to make your decisions with reason and will. Feelings and emotions are in the background. Cut out your plans with a cool mind, but why then is your love. Why multifaceted, so it is an emotion. What is your real face? Do you think you know each other? Why is it your imagination - to measure and cut? The grain of audacity will become less and less, it will dry up and you will no longer remember that it existed. But you will stand at the crossroads again and again. You will always decide with will and reason. Will you know each other when you reach the end. My anxious eyes recognized you, though not immediately. Your light and dark side. Both strong and fighting.
Sometimes, when things are so complicated, one wants to be an amoeba. Yes but no. The next time I see you, you'll probably be three. May this hope fill your loneliness. After all, the 7th can really be divine, I hope for myself. AND THANK YOU FOR THE WONDERFUL FEELING - I can't help but want it, but I know - you won't stop by me. For your special day - almost celebrated,
Answers 6
For these words - a bow and applause !!!
I did not understand anything...
I don't understand why I'm doing this - I'm prayerfully squeezing my thumbs in my pockets and I want the road to be empty so that that lunatic can have enough space for his pirouette. Whose heart is trembling with a bad premonition? My God! God save it for me - no matter for whom, it is too beautiful for a ridiculous end. I keep squeezing my thumbs.
I turn my back slowly, doing something. An angry gust of wind crashes the ashtray after me. I look in disbelief at the small windows on the floor, so I'm not in a hurry, even phlegmatic and a little pedantic. I decide to drink tea, put on a teapot, draw a match. I open the lid so it doesn't boil, I watch the licking blue tongues. It's too cold here, I'll wait in the warm room ... But it doesn't smell like tea here, something else floats in the air, the tea hasn't even boiled, it's still cold. A hissing sound is carried beneath it. I look at my hands empty, usually holding a cigarette. You want to open a window for me to the stars, you ghost, furious and naughty. I wonder in disbelief at my crazy thoughts. Who did I anger and with what? I don't seem to be doing anything wrong except wanting someone for myself. -It's mine, it's mine ... the snow spirit whispers confidently!
Are you a poet?
How beautiful! I congratulate you because you can FEEL. When you feel the bitter taste of your own tears, when, realizing that you are sinking, you fail to keep the smile on your face, remember that you are actually happy because you still know how to feel, to see, to cry. The beauty is that while you're here you can laugh when it hurts, you can lend a hand to yourself.