2:31 am
'dreamers'
it's funny
it didn't shock me
I got used to your movies
wish I got rid of all humans' inhibitions
I think I'm hungry
I should not dream of opening the cupboard
it creaks
and everybody's asleep
I've downloaded some Damien Rice's songs
you know the 'blowers' daughter'
chillin' like the ones I used to listen to
it's so pleasantly to sit hunched up on this wooden chair
wearing my purple pajamas
feeling hungry
with the keyboard on my knees
writing e-mails
it's so queer
feel like nothing material tonight
I adore these electronic pages
these buttons
which I make love to every Sunday night
it's the same photographs that entrance me
the same freedom
the same moon
the same wings
I got lost in the past today
I clutched time's arm in terror
tore all his clothes
and he was just
he was just blinking
we were sitting on the balcony's curb
beneath us it was raining
he was teaching me how to open my hands
one finger
two fingers
five fingers
the same moon was lying heavy on my breasts
the same rivers were slipping down my throat
it was a beautiful Sunday night
always a beautiful Sunday night
time and me above the rain
just a crazy girl drawing herself a body out of the shinning comets
right here
the green soul
the same hand holding the rain drops
the same time making away with himself
second floor

yelling..