bring me a bowl of unfulfilled dreams;
not just any bowl,
a beautiful one is what i seek!
carved in it let it be tears
dried feelings of distant deeds
deceiving memories of early spring
uncertain hunches of those who grieve
pieces of hearts found on the ground
collect them all,
and pour them in my bowl!

then go out again,
only come back

with fake tears in your hands;
milk them carefully and with great care
from pretentious people that bring false rain,
just make sure to collect the first drop,
cause what comes after it
is all stuffy, and worn out!

so go now, go!
and make sure to come back again,
I want to take a sip from that bowl
dive in it, feel confused again.
on those scattered thoughts
that hide myself in them
I want to exploit my mind,
a retarded grin in my face,
amazed again.


2 thoughts on “Thirst

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