The god after my God
The fingers that paint my soul
The clouds that prevent my storm
Can you please send me to sleep where dream is the norm
And all deep pleasure is an infinite circle?
It is insane that a dreamer be considered unrealistic
When reality is so insane.
Although my breed is to enjoy all kind of pain in silence
I beg of you to send me back to my dreams
Where I live with no tangible emotion
Where I am able to wake up when it all gets too intense.
I am by no means asking you to decrease my spirituality
But to simply assist me in connecting with you so deep
that I am unable to flinch 5 seconds after my heart speaks.
I miss naivety, I miss sweet ignorance
I miss this edge of ambivalence
Where the mind was so innocent
Where I thought some wrongs were not all that bad
Where nothing could return and stay unless you wanted them to
And whatever cannot be seen do not exist
Really it is curse to know so much, and feel so often and so deep
In my mind I am barefoot, soul-naked, lost in the trance and sound of my own music
But my eyes are really looking at a blank screen
Where feelings are turning into words by the mechanical process of my touch
What a cruel reality?
And so I meditate, and I cling to you
As only you could understand the vivacity of energy unexpressed
And translate them into futile words that somehow alleviate this nothingness
I need a medium where everything is warm, steady and boring….a barely medium
I want the waves and none of the storm
The pleasure and none of the pain
The loud echoes of happiness, and none of the bad days
And maybe I will stop writing, and coming to you.
I refused to accept this premise with the forged conclusion
Craft me one out of the dreams I shared with you with the sweet blissful ending
The one I dare not speak aloud fear of the corruption of this air I breathe.
I love you so much
I wish you were enough
Every time I turn to you I feel embraced
I feel things you never allow me to find words for
But again you guide my fingers to note the ones expressing just enough
Such power you hold, forming those letters that turns my cloud into gentle breeze.