consuming, alluring, burning like fire and fading away. Letting traces of your own unsolved puzzle behind, which I collected the pieces carefully just to have something to play with in the winter times.

Come and blow me away. Sunday is blue, the hours are numberless; recharging your own soul, craving for guidance, climbing in your own insecurities, feeding your demons with your own fire.
Killing myself, making my body like this cryptic ecstatic piece of subtle light which sustain me from down above, below … yourself.

One day for free is a gun on my throat. I hate you, I love myself. You can kill me, life is meaningless, shining for you and me my love.


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