The slowness of the night

The whore moves strangely to be honest. She looks at you as if she didn't care. The night is a country. It has no citizens. Only shady visitors who end there with no visa but their madness and fatigue. Their pass is their insomnia.

Insomnia is the visitor's visa into the night
It clears you and takes your bribe when you write
You need to slip some ink dollars into the night's braw
Anger won't get you anywhere
Rhymes are a pain

And you do get lost. You need that beauty you once saw, that immaculate line of words, these perfect nuanced sentences. You need the elegance of it all, without the long thought process. You want it to flow. To fall and rise, to lift your soul. What a feeling. Your own words lifting your soul. I can write and forget and cry and walk and make mistakes and feel bad and run and fall and hit a fence while on a bike and shout and ask for help and be tired and paint and draw and sing. I can sing. I can cry.

What a waste. What a w a s t e. Your tears are a rain I can do without. Your tears are the umbrella of my joy. For when you cry, I know you are. Here. Fully. Joy in tears. Tears in joy.

I can do without your tears though. But I cannot do without the night. I cannot find myself if I don't travel there from time to time. I cannot find the path if I don't lose my usual identity in that amazing realm.

The night is a country. I am a one day visitor. My visa expire soon. I should be going. But I'm too scared to start walking. I feel lonely.

No power whatsoever
Emotions are plain
Rhymes are a pain

Travel alone. Get lost for a decade. Even if the word serves your dreams. If you don' thave the answer you want and the questions you need, you'll stay lost for a decade.

Can you save my soul ?

Can you share my steps ?

Can you be with me once more ? The way we were. I need nobody though. My hate for you makes me go foreward. Fore-word. But who are you ? Are you another person or are you me ? That grit I have, are these mu teeth grinning against you, dreaming of biting and chewing your mind and brain or are they trying to chew me ? When I grit at night, am I trying to eat myself ? My strange teeth ? Are trying to eat me ? Am I trying to eat me ? I shouldn't let go during the night.

It is a strange territoty