I kneel down into the rainy grass.
With my drenched socks on my feet.
I ended up into the broken glass.
I look at the ground
at the bloody moss
whom was so green,
like my winter sweater I’ve found,
In the shopping window (years ago)
In the past; when everything seemed so good and lovely,
nowadays this life;
it seems wasted and
I sew my mouth
so it’s closed.
In the past it was the honey that spoke
now it’s the mud that lies.
Something in anger that creeps into my body and likes to let me choke.
My lips are wounded
from the astringent sigarettes,
and I know it isn’t healthy
But I now yearn to hold onto a kind of shelter when I haven’t anything and really nothing..
I know going on with that addiction wasn’t following the good road,
But all of this cruelty doesn’t make any sence.
My heart is barely moving anymore without any kind of warm friction,
I lost the good of myself, I lost all of me,
I lost all of my good friends.