maybe it's that greg haines song
maybe it's the fabric of my clothes
soothing me into new directions
if that makes sense at all
it's that time at night
when you play movies in your head without needing any button
to press play
you already have the technicolor pictures of
motioned dreams in mind that
seem to be nearer,
seem to be realer
when the world starts to fall asleep
and I start to see you
around your room this time
and I'm asking myself so many questions
that I didn't want to hear as you already answered them
and I spin
I turn around the footsteps
I left for myself
just to stay awake and throw my thoughts into letters
I write it down
word for word
droplet to droplet until I get drunk from all of this poetry
I am
circling like a moon
cold as stone but the only light that's left in the darkness of my latest hours
I am
rereading the conclusions
others made for me
I am
re-calculating the solutions
others found for me
and I recognise
that my life should contain more than the instructions and undeveloped, failed constructions of modern society
I mean
I am not your digital data
I am not your feminist cliché
I am not your typical type of y generation
you are
nothing more than the ominous power apparatus everyone seems to fear without knowing what it means
because of not knowing
what this means
and I spin
I turn around
heading back to my childhood and redreaming my nightmares
questioning everything I love
to discover how much we hate ourselves for every weakness we aren't able to dissolve
perfection seems to be the only unreachable normality we'd be able to accept
even though
we've never seen anything
on earth, in us
that was
in fact
perfect
but don't forget
all of the tragedies
the cursed hopes and believes and
religious dreams of a world that defeats the bad weather of our life
you know
that's not going to happen
the only thing happening
is this right know
me knowing
that this will reach someone
me knowing
that you won't know how my breathing sounds
right now
cause that's how pain is acting through us
I can hear you breathing and
already know your scale of present pain
all the hurt
maybe it's the
greg haines song
or the soothing smell of my sheets
I spin
I write labyrinths of papers
verses and lines
so one day you may find
the true meaning behind
all these stylistic designs
just to
tell you more about my
idealistic mind
it's hard to decide
what's left to say
left to do
when all that's gonna happen
is
what you're going to do
with me
with you
and
that's the spin
there is no
ominous power apparatus
no
perfect society model
no solution
no fitting construction
no matter how much we try to consume
it's
just me
it's just you
and
maybe this won't make you fall asleep
but
at least
this is a truth
you're able to believe