sometimes i write and write
on and on
not making much sense
only so i can watch the words disappear when i delete them
my words
being swallowed by the vacuum of time
my passion
being drawn into the void before it can bloom
my voice
swept away in a avalanche of insignificance
if only you could hear my whisper
how it fills the valley of solitude with a thunder that would make you shiver
but
my breath is wasted
over spilled wine and decaying time
no hello could bring it back
no goodbye could remove the pain
this ache i have for the warmth of the sun
and the taste of your smile on my lips
and sometimes i write and write
on and on
making sense only to the voices in my head
so i can type them and make you wonder
if
my words
touching forbidden places in the darkness of another time
my passion
exploding in the depth of you soul
my voice
delivering the message of a dream
and i wonder if i should watch these disappear
before you can see me
standing in the corner of temptation-
the event horizon of disaster
or the moment of memory sealed in the vacuum of your mind
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