Affection

Trust. Futile word expressed inadequately upon you,
Think outside the box, sounds easier than it is,
when hypnotized by the colour of your eyes,
the shade of your lips,
the charming sounds of your laughter,
and the way you talk.


Giving in for the black hole that appears in your wake,
the hole that drains all the reason and all rational thinking,
leaves you to point and laugh without realizing the pain your spear provides.


Time heals all wounds, and time is everlasting,
would that mean that all my wounds will eventually heal?
For all wounds that disappears, new shall be received,
but am I the one to receive them or am I the one to give them away?


Dark matter grip has been eased,
liberty has been found,
the knives of your vicious behaviour have been rotten,
my achilles shield has once more been polished,


so fuck you, and don't you dare playing stupid.