joi, 3 aprilie 2014

Why do I even...

rising and collapsing lungs.
liquids boiled and brewed and running.
a sheet more crumbled than a dream.
fingers tracing the contours of a fantasy.
presumptuous stares.
bored beyond belief.
the giggles and sighs of different lives.
sinking mattress.
endless books of limited letters.
crackling knees and jaw.
childish and undesired companions.
knowledge that slips away from its birth.
repetitive food.
foreign voices of familiar faces.
domestic freedom.
music that blends into your blood.
an existence put down in virtual ink.
funny neighbors.
the same old worries of yesterday and tomorrow.
casual confidence.
too many breaks.
apathy of the soul and feet.
no room for rebellion.
prolonged waiting.
induced darkness.

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