I bite from the moon
the sand gets into my orbits
I feel no more
water flowing through me
it could be blood
I don`t know anymore
I search for reason in a filthy bus
I feel sick when I see skin on the vinyl seats
I have no idea why all these ordinary things hurt so bad
I better stay with my mother
today we have sponge cake
I grow up as the dough does
I`ve always had this feeling
I think of you no more
grief feels boring
I left it somewhere in a box
I open it from time to time
when I remember
love
Tuesday 13th
the last day before tomorrow
the first day after yesterday
it is not special
birds die
the greenhouse effect goes on
the ozone layer attenuates
cars become aircrafts
my dad reads the morning paper
sports section
mum argues with me
you are no more
Tuesday 13th
a day like any other day