shock. a pause. holding. waiting in vane for the impossible combination of words that will be able to put my thoughts through. utopic behaviour. the wait in itself is the pause between two sentences, the lapse separating two sips, two bites, two kisses, two blinks, two heart beats, two souls shouting at each other in the void, is silent. but my silence won´t last. hope found support, and it´s now building a delight of a structure over the impossibility of my relentless refusal to pay the price.
freedom for a start. no ties. no boundaries imposed. no requirements. just the cream, free for a lifetime, forever. the catalyst intervenes. the need stamps the price tag on your joy. you can have it, but for a tie. boundaries are drawn to define your subject, your possession. within, understanding is the prime matter that will feed the factory of dreams. the outcome is just a byproduct.
hidden. waiting. don't know the reason. just create one to feed the ingenuity of my hope. let's pick this one: something. let's pick another: it's on purpose. let's be real: it's past. my clock is still round, and it keeps repeating the same numbers. past and present mixes.
why are you still here? no promises, no expectations, no projections. but you are still here, working in you representation. building it to my most excentric desires and worst needs. tricking myself into delight. creating an impossibly perfect image, aggravated by time and distance. break loose, get tied, break free, get lost. i want to free the grasp of your disturbing allurement.
time is flowing between my fingers, but i cannot feel its escape. the accumulation of release. the aging of departure. there is a place for memories where you cannot tell the difference between now and then, and when you find out, it's is already then. the shade of the present hides the recent moments to make out the past.
crazy. fighting the gravity in my head, im my eyelids. back and forth, once again, but never this timing, this madness. happy. and a face i will remeber, the gestures, the tenderness, my temptation is naive. my determination, weak. my time window, inexistent. extending myself i will reach,