latest hours of the night,
henceforth i broke up to resist,
struggling for life.
who was guilty?
you or me,
i dont know. Maybe dearests with innocent masks.
Am i thinking too much?
are you real
or just a schizoprenic existance that i created
just for my feelings?
shame on me, didnt mean to love you.
but...but what if you do exist
as well you gave me soul
unthought possibility yet
maybe you just wanted someone to there for you
a puppet me for a selfish purpose.
innocent look and ashamed sight
were your strenghts.
i was defenceless, weak and blind.
are you really unjust
or i made up this story at a schizophrenic night
after a couple of shot?
Topic(s) of this poem: love and pain