this time its really me
I thought long time about this
about you
about what you would like me to do
but I've not coming to a concern yet
images are occuring every moment
some are incise in time
some are forgotten
but yours never left
I still remember the taste of weed
and I still have it in my mouth
but not so royalist anymore
not so fresh
I still remember the taste of coke
how it would dilute in my blood
how it would drive me nuts
but not now
not anymore
not without you
I still remember how that night felt
how your body was cold and hard
how your eyes - half open - were outlandish
how I cried over you
how you never. never really waked up
and my tears felt all over me too
How my home start feeling empty
and those divisions in your house
start sounding crashed - filled with memories
filled with lefts of me
things I won't redeem
as my weed
and the special taste of coke
And those moanings
oh, those moanings
you won't bother to hide them
and I won't bother not listen to them
because after all they were yours too
and I missed them, back then
and I still missed them
now alone
When you left
I wrote something
something I will never forget
however I burned it
hoping you won't require them back
and yet I did
my last line of dope
my last line of you
after crying all over you
all over me too
after resting with corpses
after listening to Jim Morrison's songs
after drinking our vodka
after contemplate the starlit sky
the last piece of your oxygenated hair
then I did it
and you were gone
as well as me
and know I'm gone
as well
as you.
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