I watched myself as your nails slowly scratched me
I swear I watched myself
Every time, like a child
And our bodies so heavy, it sickens me
And the smell of those bed sheets, it sickens me
And flesh and noise, it sickens me
And our moves and skin viscosity, it sickens me
I’m not here, I’m half missing
And wether violence or sweetness
I know none of them could win in me
And I’m not here
Here is my very new 21st century disease
This friendly bitch I feed
Within the seeds of love and inferiority
Where waits the chromosome loneliness
And lately, I think I understood it all
Now there’s no place left for poetry
No place left for lies
No more poetry, no more lies, no more nothing
I spent years hiding behind words
But this time I won’t lie
I guess I’m torn inside
I guess I’m still fucking lost
And I guess it’s deep
And I guess I’m wrong before I even try
I guess I’m far before I even start
And all is dry, all is thin
All is fucked and all is tensed
And I’m below sky
I’m below hope and I’m below life
And can’t you see it?
I’m below you
In bed
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