my neck has no bones.
my tongue is on fire.
my fingers seek something with no name.
I should care,I should fight,
I should give a damn,
but I can't.
chasing time,chasing dust,chasing gods
that would never trade bodies for gold.
I want nothing but a reason to walk,
to breathe,to smile
for the stranger that keeps staring
my days wear the same mask,
yet,each night,I find myself
at the edge
of every lucid nightmare ever known to man.
I stand between
a little bit of Heaven and a pinch of Hell-
even so,I strive to open my heart
in front of all the beauty of the Universe.
my neck is made out of silk.
my tongue swims in dreams.
my fingers found something with a ring to it.