martes, 10 de diciembre de 2013

No more bad / No more good

To the Mayan queen, the wife of Jove, the prophetess of Ilium, ignored by all

No more knots
No more hugs
No more bruises on my knuckles
No more shags in stations’ toilets
No more movies by the fire
No more presents late at night
No more jealousy undeserved
Nor hideous suspension points
Saying more than thousand words

No new players getting closer
No more friends with benefits
“I’m confused, I need to think”
Yes, I’m sure that some more fucking
Will help you clear your head

You’re a mess, my love
A weathercock
Hoping to stand still one day
But hitting the hand that holds you
Making it bleed so much
So many times
That they end up moving aside
Watching you spin and spin

I hope you will find your path some day
But I’ll be on my way now


Every day, a little bit closer
A little bit more of me
Of you.
That’s what you wrote

And I loved you so much
So strongly I thought I’d go mad
Willing to do things I’d never do
Without a doubt
I’d have gone anywhere with you
I’d have done anything for you
I’d have descended to hell
I’d have killed him, you know
I’d have taken you with me

But our choices led us here
And God, those were bad choices
And now we have nothing
Even if we have it all
We still have nothing

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