Wonderland, a wonderful (yet-to-exist) land.: Waiting on Mrs. Death.

14/12/14

Waiting on Mrs. Death.

I'm waiting for Mrs. Death to arrive.
I'm waiting on Her, half alive.
Once walking, now broken.
My systems aren't working.
Ohh Mrs. Death, come.
Ohh Mrs. Death, come.
Take me where I belong.
I once never existed.
And exist, I will not.
I pitty all the space wasted,

all that my body has caused
in a reality that might be real but might be not.

I'm waiting on Mrs. Death,
I'm staying in this shabby place
until She comes around.

They say She's been found,
some say She's been found.
Must have been elsewhere
cause I'm still here waiting on Her.

Ohh Mrs. Death, come.
You know I'm going numb.
This couldn't be called a life,
only waiting for Mrs. Death to arrive.

No hay comentarios:

Publicar un comentario

Ya que entro, comento.

It's never quite right, he said, the way people look,
the way the music sounds, the way the words are
written.
It's never quite right, he said, all the things we are
taught, all the loves we chase, all the deaths we
die, all the lives we live,
they are never quite right,
they are hardly close to right,
these lives we live
one after the other,
piled there as history,
the waste of the species,
the crushing of the light and the way,
it's not quite right,
it's hardly right at all
he said.

don't I know it? I
answered.

I walked away from the mirror.
it was morning, it was afternoon, it was
night

nothing changed
it was locked in place.
something flashed, something broke, something
remained.

I walked down the stairway and
into it.

-Charles Bukowski.