reminescence

so too blunt to be even bleak,
so much of a shallow grasp of nothing
thrown into nowhere...
this is what you well enough succeded to be.

turn my filthy wreck of pain
into the shape of oblivion
'cause this heart grows fonder
of your useless presence in my thoughts!

I've never mastered a skill better
than I am managing to get rid off thrills,
be it the thrill  of my inner voice,
or the thrill of my soul shut down in yours.


thought life is a cartwheel,
a very nice-coloured one,
but I do not want my emotions
to  be drawn up in circles...
with so many things that look infinite,
I really know that everything is
only the blink of an eye.

Closing the past is only a matter of time.