Game of Laplace

Let them talk
Paper Relationships
Let’s make it difficult
Lets permit ourselves

Turning point.
Dreaming about the sunrise,
Crawling in circles on the floor…
Useless and hopeless.

Like a butterfly
Insufficient wings
The ugly son of a star.

In someone’s arms
Crushed by the nights I spend alone
In the dead of night

In a corner of the universe, like
the world I saw in my dreams
I want to change the self that seeks for what is missing

Now it’s your turn, smile.