Thoughts, can they leave me?
Dreams, can they stay?
The wet concrete is touching my knee,
By the texture alone I am swept away.
There is no need for words
Nor is there a capability.
The world is full of open doors
It's just that passing needs emotional stability.
Stability which I don't have
Or able even to conceive.
At this point, I'm not even on a path.
How do I my past retrieve?
The concrete warms me by existing,
The sky saddens me by being there.
I even saw a deathly listing,
For those pussies who can't bear.
There are no words inside me
Nor is there a heart or lung.
My body, I'll just let it be,
Because suicide - nobody will fund.
Why do friends exist and what's their purpose?
Seems like no one can help anyway.
As if they saw a floating carcass
But all they did was let it stay.