Cold is the shell of a mind who dare,
trying to write yesterday's bliss of my heart,
the shearing and the stress.
to stare at your eyes
to taste your smell.
no debts I care, no thoughts I swear...
Meaningless are the lines circles ,
nonsense are the angles and numbers,
for only at your presence which I care.
exchanging glances, in a meaningless way.
saying hi, just like the others would say.
pretending you're not in sight
to conceal the truth that it is you
who makes me excite..
I don't know if this is true
cause in reality it isn't really about you.
the bliss that i get from your smile,
the spark generated when your skin touches mine,
all of this is a lie.
Because all the sweetness, only takes place when your eyes met mine
for such a reason that my world isn't yours
and yours isn't mine.
It is true that I seldom think of you here.
with each others absence, there is no love I can share.
You're not the antidote on this dreadful world
nor the potion of rejuvenations.
For such memory of yours only halt any of my actions...
nothing so much to describe you, but a poison in my virtue.
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