Burdened by paraphernalia of images
Costing me my dear life every second of my existence
How must I endure this.how long
This passion is suicidal
The explanations weird. No you can’t help me
Don’t help me.I am okay, I have been like this
If I were to explain them to you
Your shadow will come in between,
You – your long shadow, Me
My pasts.various pasts, various futures
Never have I lived in the present, I do not exist here,
I have either lived a life or am going to live a life
An event fading fast, or stretching to an unforeseen future
Am not living though, breathing is a different job
Carried out faithlessly by these congested lungs,
Don’t know for sure why. Don’t know for sure
For how long. For how much.this seems cheap
This life, this existence.is it the same for you.
The feeling, this life.or are you richer in many respects
How much shall I gain, will you gain. I am curious, tell me
How much have I lost, will I lose. How much have
You lost, will lose.I remain curious.tell me
Who is it between us when I see nobody but your soul
Is it the lost space, the lost word, the lost phrase.
What have you gained? What will you gain. When did you last die?
How many deaths will you go through to live one single life?
The spaces remain the same, the words don’t change much.
You, your shadows, you your thoughts. You are so confident
What innocence. What clarity.like a corpse,
Murkier? But then.yeah, you are so confident.
Mustn’t I believe in you? Aren’t you dead? Dead like a corpse.