Wham Bam Boom!

I understand clearly
the lapse, the collapse and the relapse
butterflies and eyes
teasing the iron feather in the moonlight
of a thousand midnights during the cold war
stopping trade and severed communications
between kingdoms
Those late nights in the lab in the backroom
wondering in the quietness and accompanied solitude
a small invisible bridge of saphire hazy, invisible tears yet perfectly ennerved at the other end
of the hall...seems so small from the privacy of a darkened room...or the screeching voices of a saturday night, quietly drifting down the hall whilst being awake..."i wonder what you're up to?...you're thinking about me again, aren't you...i KNOW you are" ...it never stopped happening as the silhouettes around never bothered to question...and even if they did, we're quite excellent actors...out of bitterness and stress, something we couldn't handle...maybe it was inexperience...maybe we didn't exactly know how to do it...

Mistakes, mistakes, mistakes...art rages out from the only open mouth...a method of expression
to sort of explain our happiness and intending to dissect our dissilusion, our depression. A jungle of strings, imagery and fantasy ....all wonderful reality warpings of the harlequin. For Pinocchios in this case, are tools, merely brushes injecting life into an otherwise hollowed white facade...you may not always see things clearly, you may see a few things warped right out of context, you may not ever see the whole horizon...but it's all in your eyelids, always when you close them, paintings of images you've likely dreamed, yet never seen.

Like little children, ages 6 and 7
the 1920's dry law we've dried, like a dream-a-holic's desert up in smoke, cough and you will see me banging my head, and a microphone stand barely missing my forehead... breathalizer reads ..."well what can i say?" ...and the highway patrolmen shrug their shoulders and hop on mechanical horses, it's time to chase after Bigfoot, the paparazzi said he headed north...

They've taken our wheels...where are we supposed to go?

That's when we remember ...we're in the middle of nowhere...and you seem much shorter than you did 5 minutes ago...
and then we're playing in the woods, in the dark, with a boxful of matches, sometimes i feel i'm turning you into a pyromaniac.

God, if only i weren't one also...
You see,
The more i burn the more you burn
And,
we're proving a point, i think....

I don't wanna go past the line...however,
Those 20 some years that went by
maybe it's necesary for us to be children
make up for lost time, maybe i've known you forever
maybe i was just born elsewhere, maybe you were mine forever, maybe you were just born elsewhere. I'm sorry i left in the first place , you're sorry you did too.
I understand pretty well you had to, so i hope you understand why i did also.

Do you understand your own questions? Or do you already know what i'm going to say...
Something around or similar to you but completely the opposite...

I love the fact we're so young that we forget we've been through it all.
I love the fact we play around this like a merry go round...of green flaming trees with purply flames...it's not like acid, mostly like our minds work.

It has to stop somewhere, somehow...
As i crawl in the cannon, there's white paint on my face...and a big red talking nose...
I hear a BANG and i see a life full of mazes and transformations...i see people drinking away their lives in a colmado, and i see people leaving to find their destination elsewhere, and i see people trading themselves for someone new, that someone they met bought for them at a store, on discount, from a short and quite suspicious looking Chinese man, in his 60's, with a Fu Manchu- type moustache. I see change and i see stagnation. I see life and i see death. I wish others weren't so dependent on what i have to say...here and there, and everywhere.

Because at this moment i've become a bullet...it's what i choose...
Heading forward in slow motion...
I could be the bullet aimed at you bit hitting mere centimeters away
into a wall where i materialize and become i.
Right next to you, most likely, concused, most likely delirious and with an enormous bump on my forehead...

Would you hold me as i'm watching pretty colors flowing in front of my eyes...
Would you pretend you hit your head against the wall too?
So you could see the pretty butterflies dancing on pegasus wings?
I may be hallucinating from bloodloss...
but baby you're the clearest image of everything my eyes have never seen.
As you wipe the blood away you expose your silvery crystal wings, become somewhat of an angel, you might say...i know there's a devil in there...
i just hope she knows she's looking straight into Metatronic eyes

When the it's darkest
you always turn into the light...
When it's brighest you always drink up the daylight
so that your eyes become the sun
and you shimmer on everyone
that's why they love you and would glady jump in front of a speeding bullet to save you.
I and i understand them so clearly not even they understand why.

I'm glad to say, i've lost my damn mind.