And you show up in the night roads with your dark car. And you're still a ghost. And you still keep it as a secret. And I still keep my mouth shut. While I breathe, you're now safe. You're safe from my words, but not from my eyes. There you are. There you go.
Under the moon brilliance and the stars or through the mist of the fog. You show up. You just disappear.
In the other night you've stopped your car. Then you just disappearead between the buildings, through the never ending road, as a maze that I simply know too well. You'rea ghost of my past. I am the ghost of your sexual secrets. We're both ghosts and that's why I still desire you, no matter how hard things have gone in the last years. I still believe that we're perfect for each other, although you're not a cop or a muscular dude, like those I simply like and crave as fuck-toys. I still believe that we're perfect for each other, although I am not a chick, like your friends believe that you like.
Is it love? Or obsession? So many years and it is still this bad. I close the doors to them, to those others. I use them as fuck toys and nothing else. No feelings involved, because i'm unable to allow such thing to happen. No one shall dare to come too close.
The others... if they know that there's something / someone keeping me aside from this silly love and seduction games or if they don't know anything at all... I don't really give a fuck about that. It's not their business. It's not their hearts or feelings or lifestyle.
Why you and not someone else?
An when I type about "you", is it really YOU or is it someone else? Who knows? Who cares?
I have ideas that I should write down in a note book or to type them down in my mobile. Doing some what of sketches, but I don't. I have those ideas in a cafe or while I am walking down the streets. Still I could sketch them in my mobile, notebook or somewhere. But I sit down in front of a computer or a tablet and I simply let it flow.
Weird way of twist.
Weird way of twist.