Buy me a wristwatch. Buy me a compass. Buy me a shovel. You know what I mean by this, you have to at this point. It goes like this: me, in a car whose owner I don't even bother to remember, smoking the shit out of a cigarette and thinking how much I don't wanna be buried in a coffin. I'd curse thousands of men before I'd let them throw dirt over me, for now.
It goes like this: me, burning like the tip of the cigarette I had in my mouth, reaching my illusion of liberty. After this you can throw me on the ground if you want to, I don't care, it's just a different process that leads to the same end. Everybody knows what it is.
It is like this: I've always been burning, so I don't want to stop just because I'm dead. Burn me and put your hands in the fire, it stings but you can do it, darling, then you shall understand. I can't bear the sight of you from here and this is the final mission.
Truth is I want to taste time like a fresh new apple, so give me the wristwatch and hope for the best. How must I look like, being seen through your eyes, not sickly eyes, real eyes with sparkles and colors, fireworks. How much of me you've seen disappear through those years I've become not me? Don't think you're the one to blame, get off your high horse. There's nothing you can do to save the dead. My journey got lost itself and grew apart from me, shattered in a million of strings I can't put together, not anymore, there's no energy. The loneliness that grew up with me became a new language that only I know how to speak, so how could you try, you see? Your flammable silence is your answer and I'm surprisingly grateful. There's too much wording in my throat but I look at you and you just exist right there, lying on your bed scrolling through your phone; I get caught up in these epiphanies in which I can't win, and you can't save me because you can't see the flames.
Don't nod and smile, you already smile too much in my head, come closer. You know what the shovel is for. I don't care as long as you keep holding my hand, even though you hate heights. I'm not falling, don't worry. I'm not fucking Icarus or some dumb asshole who thought I'd be a good idea to anger some Almighty, how must it be giving so much of a fuck like this. I want to be dazzled by my end, something that not even I could've imagined. Certainly looks a marijuana cloudy party, with your hand on my hair and too much noise. Beg with me that I won't get lost on my way to go back to the world of atoms, so hurry and give me that compass.
Once, twice, two hundred and twenty four times I waited for someone to get up on their white horse for me, but my teeth is too sharp, so much hate in my eyes; I finally understood. You can't read the language of my silence and I wish I had the time to wait.