a half-made heart inside me lays
blood and tears mingle in my veins, pain and its coma drip
my skin is sour from words that touch, sounds and the silence in-between
a bridge that never mends stretches from me to you, and
I try to recall your smile how it shines, how it warms and there you are laughing from memories glued on the walls of my numb, inflamed brain holding my gaze, like a lover, like a friend, a flicker of pain
and you,
not you anymore
because there is a half-made bridge in my heart still
that cracks slowly over time, all that I haven't healed
since our last goodbye, with the door ajar
and my ears full with the echoes of alarms
everything is so far - a miniature-bang butst
and I try to cry with tears of stitched pieces, a Frankenstein of mine,
from all that I am not
the moments that hurt me
no more they'll ever grow
the memories will get older ink, but the numbness will pervert
when I'll see you no,
a shadow of myself, I hope that you will
remember how we were
be a glorious day, when my life comes to an end
a half page that is burned
on its edges, tossed to a bin
stuck in here am I
lost between the drugs and my blood still warm
feeling everything outside
until then I wander among faces with a mask
tightened as much as all memories on the cards
and
I cast a furtive gaze through eyes dimmed with tears
and your distant smile at the crowds - a puppet’s stage away
with its charm that fades
I peek at their mouths
half-talking, half-chewing pushed to the cheeks
while they sit at their tables with
the food shining between their teeth,
full of glorious life chatting like stars God knows what
in front of the screens glowing pure, full of light in the dark
and I'm angry at all, their life of ignorance
this cruel joke that I feel so numb to even try
life is getting cold and bites so unaware
while my bridge never mends, disappearing in the air
I feel such a fool and so far from my own veins
and my engine fails, with the cracks that time had grown
there's no point in feeling disappointed in the end
in skies without walls, witout bridges that will scar
and
of my eyes that look without seeing I feel far

I pause hesitantly
next to this mirror with a young-old man
clutching unaware some letters on the lead dirty-paper, as I clutch
your hand night after night before going to dark
and
I stand as much as to keep,
keep you in my sight
while the darkness stings with a wasping buzzing sound
the flower that was left without seed stays still for me,
I am blessed to be yearning for your kiss,
let me kiss you I say, and the breath between lips
starts to flow thin towards
the ground that I will be

(a dream slimmer and slimmer and numb)