#sayingthingsonmymind

       Going through wahtever time there is.

   As frail and sharp as reed growing on the edge of a lake.

                      part was not 

                                            that you left.

           When words

   can´t help.                       There is colours, feelings.

                         As a broken twisted piece of old metal,

                                                                                         rusty.

       Waiting for the dust to bear wings, in the wind to scatter and

               the creation 

                    of life

              in a single drop.

                                           In a single drop of tear life

Ever waiting for that touch, that I will never feel.

Strapped in barbwire my skin bleeds deep red as roses in the dark.

Tearing and bathingin my eyes.

To see all colours under the moon the sun and the pitch black night.

I dare say noting is more beautiful then seeing anything that moves what you feel. It matters not a painting or just words, written as these what you see is colours and what you feel no one can take.

no one answer the call.

Nothing sounds, nothing clamps hard down into the core of the bone.

Watching the distance to see if something has stayed.