Broken Like The Blues Poem by Markus Zielinski

Saturday night, out there bleeding.
We are dancing, like the shadows from behind,
as moody as the fools, we are broken baby,
broken like the blues.

It is so easy to get loose,
cut yourself off,
burned down from the roots.
And we keep turning on,
the madness we are burning from.

Her hands conquering my skin.
Her desire is sadness and sadness is mine.
Oh sweet dancer, bitter passion!
I´ve been waiting all the time,
to make your darkest secrets mine.

There are stories shared, in every aching touch
baby we grow death and death is growing us.

To be with you
is what cryptonite feels like
and it feels right.