Bittersweet hours

Honey on my skin, fresh as a drop of rain,
Milk poured on your skin, wasted in vain,
An empty train station – not a single train.

Spring and summer dreams, autumn leaves,
Winter nights by the seaside, a sharp breeze,
Made me feel that nothing is what it seems.

A song played by an amateur on his guitar,
Tell me how things got so dusty, yet so far,
Fake a kiss and whisper to me what we are.

A silent room with cold bed sheets I refused,
Reality bites you first desired, then abused
Make me feel uneasy, empty and confused.

Beg for forgiveness, though I never forgive,
I wish for the truth, yet you always deceive,
I’m an exception you can’t leave and retrieve.

Now your thoughts lack too much inflection,
I sense from time to time a fake connection,
Yet I know what lies behind that reflection.

Still, you make my heartbeats skip a beat,
While yours remain still and incomplete,
Rainy days just make the hours bittersweet…

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  1. […] Bitterweet hours Tue Oct 19, 2010 22:42 pm Honey on my skin, fresh as a drop of rain, Milk poured on your skin, wasted in vain, An empty train station – not a single train. Spring and summer dreams, autumn leaves, Winter nights by the seaside, a sharp breeze, Made me feel that nothing is what it seems. A song played by an … […] […]



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