Sailing

Well if the color was black,
and if the smell was gone...

or rather if the taste of my lips was the same as always,

or if the songs were replaced by constant push of air...

maybe i feel numb.

6 minutes left and I feel the agony of self defeat.
I am numb.
I am torn.
I am in love.

I cannot break the darkness, or bend the hum.
Love is uncontrollable.

I am self loathing and regret.

I am disgust and contempt.

I am you and you are me.

everything to fear.
Because you forgot me just like I said you would.
Your hair is the color of gold.
But the wheat fields play a sad hum...

this is not as easy as you said it would be.

At least for the man dressed in black.