from the teenage days..
=of dark lips=
somehow she covers me with her world
leaving out all my pollution n all my worries
somehow she saves me everytime
without doing anything but talking to me
and then when she leaves she is still there
it doesnt make sense, in a way i dont want it to
as maybe then it wont mean as much
i dont have to hear her voice, just the memory of her,
not even the things she said, but the fact that she
thought and felt that way when talking, the fact that
i was talking to 'her' - this weird entity...
that is enough to create this warmth so strong that
it massages my foundations...it makes me strong
the best thing about it is that it refuses to
let me depend on it, so that i can never be hurt by it,
by her. u see, it doesnt make sense. its ok, some things arent meant to make sense.
hell we only have five senses in this infinity.