I,
together with these viscous words
sit
seemingly volatile upon this window
The
half moon stares right at me
mocking
me for my misfortune
"who
does not die alone!?"
i
shout
for
like if one does not agree with one's self,
it
just die, that very moment
in
between the consciousness and dreams,
in
between the short lifespan of usable thoughts and sporadic things
in
between the ties and empty spaces...