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Literature Text
Maybe age wasn't really the centre of all that frothing...
maybe you had guts to still feel something,
before you just let the phone ring and ring,
while you shut yourself behind closed doors,
and in the heat of those nights,
melancholy still dripping from your pores,
witness anew those feelings could exist,
drowns you in all you forgot,
reminds you how cold you have now become,
nothing and then some,
bittersweet young love,
shows you all you are and all you are without,
sweetly smiles as you gouge your inner eyes out.
maybe you had guts to still feel something,
before you just let the phone ring and ring,
while you shut yourself behind closed doors,
and in the heat of those nights,
melancholy still dripping from your pores,
witness anew those feelings could exist,
drowns you in all you forgot,
reminds you how cold you have now become,
nothing and then some,
bittersweet young love,
shows you all you are and all you are without,
sweetly smiles as you gouge your inner eyes out.
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Young love is often transient.