few days
so much, too many little
my present is an insect
it could grow, it will always will
wish is a fog
waiting
silent
to come
can i make it happen ?
we could
if we were me
a breathe
belief
if
the bad ghost is my illusion
don’t now
here no
you know ?
hear me
calling you far away, so close to me
my last song is the death of my breathe
whisper empty and left behind
i hide
underneath, there must be an if