Long nights into sunrise
deep conversations that surmount to nothings
truths evaporated into thin lines
camouflaged amid everything floating in the air
that perhaps only I can see.
And my senses alert themselves once again
but this time, unlike every other time,
there is no be vigilant shit.
It's apocalypse
as lips meet
and I feel him next to me.
My senses were dead
but with him, I see them come to life:
he holds my hand
and I realise what it feels like to let go of independence,
every semblance of impressions of boss lady,
as I let him walk me down steps,
navigate roads, crowds, conversations and everything.
My thoughts whisper:
his scent lingers on
long after he's gone,
and I can feel what I didn't think I'd feel,
what I don't want to feel.
And I'm left wondering what he feels.
Shh! Don't tell him.
The majestic lady keeps her calm,
unfurls herself only when she has won,
but I'm like a child
once again when with him -
But it is out there:
he's lost, I am too,
two sailors in seas full of turbulent waves
on different boats
having abandoned old ones that had been punctured with holes.
Do we have life support here?
Thunder claims the sky.
Please, I've been on my knees,
change the prophecy,
don't want money,
just someone who wants my company
let it once be me
who do i have to speak to
about it if they can redo
the prophecy?
