Seventh

They say i have some sort of Schizo-Disease...
But maybe i dont have it anymore like they say. I´ve always been told i could cure myself in some way, pull myself up whenever i needed to. But thats a lie... I´ve used music, and people i´ve found faith in along the way. Im no different than anyone else.
What bugs me the most, is that... Tomorrow i´ll go. I´ll see her again. She´ll smile, sending her smile above the table - covered in love. I´ll feel better than ever sitting at the other side of the table, reminding myself - that sometimes love comes in ... Whatever it comes in...

I miss those days were the sun kept glooming a hot temperature, and it was summer.
But the sun also reminds me, of those days chasing "The shot" deep inside Copenhagen, late night. And though it was summer - it was cold. Fucking cold.

Does anyone else got that feeling, that they are alone? There is only, themselves, and no one else?

Does anyone keep their secrets for themselves?

By the way, she gave me a hug the last time, i saw her. It was like... Like hugging youre own faith. Like knowing - this is the person, you were brought in this world to love, no matter what...

And then i got uncomfortably hugging her, because i knew this was as close as it get - ever. And that felt terribly!

Tomorrow it all happens again... It begins, leaving me back with nothing else than despair... But thats fine. I´ll take it with a smile...
As long as i can sit across the table - and notice her blush in front of me, when i start charming her...


Love is pressuring on lonely veins - releasing it´s grip when the float turns to sea.. - That´s how i´ll put it.

I´ll stand naked in front of the mirror tonight - and i´ll check my scars... It reminds me of what i´ve seen - things no one else have seen, and if they have...
Im sorry...


Mads