Day: Dec 16, 2020

The sentences you murmur get entangled with mine, it’s funny,

Almost a coincidence, almost like you’re into this for the new money.

You feel intuitive, just like the paintbrushes between my fingers.

The word on the street is you can’t manage your anger, it lingers.

You grip the wheel until your knuckles turn white when I tease you.

You’re not into people, you’re only into things that please you.

Why am I watching your brain fall apart, why am I even here?

No willingness to fix the issues. No pretend, no love and no care.

But somehow your hold around the folds of my brain is stronger,

It’s puncturing my fragile strings, it’s making the dawns longer.

When the evening rushes towards me, all the notions dissolve.

I let your words speak for themselves

And they never evolve.