duminică, 4 septembrie 2016

The last hour

It is getting late inside myself
It has for a while now
But lately it feels like my bones are closing up.
My throat is dry now.
It can't swallow any of this world's air anymore.
It can't draw mimics of his heartbeats to survive.
My hand can't hold any other stranger's skin anymore.
My lips can't move to form a word or a kiss.
They can only remain still
And wait 'till the time rest inside
Runs dry.

Niciun comentariu:

Trimiteți un comentariu