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I'm afraid of the dark
I'm afraid of the light
I'm afraid of the ones I care and love
I'm afraid of the ones I hate

I'm afraid of the sea, the sun and the sand
I'm afraid a beautiful face will give me a hand
I'm afraid of falling in love again
And watch it go down the drain

I'm afraid of the rhymes of my words
I'm afraid of the things I might say
I'm afraid my lips rhyme with yours
I'm afraid, I'm afraid, I'm afraid

The emptyness of pleasure

Sometimes pleasure doesn't last as long as the orgasmic hormonal discharge. A few seconds of ecstasy after a few minutes of repetitive movements... or the longest ecstasy moments ever after hours of wild affective dancing... Pleasure and perfection, respectively.
And once you reach perfection it's almost impossible to forget it or even feel content with pleasure. And all I've been building my life around - pleasure - loses it's importance in just a second.
But for as much as I would like to pause life and give myself a break, I just keep going and giving myself to the pleasures of the flesh and smiling...
Yeah, it's not perfect, but it's pleasure and I can't help but smile!!!

Wrong turn

Along the way we all get the wrong turn!
Some more than others but along the way we all do something with the best intentions... and end up doing the worst thing possible!
We say "I love you" too many times or not enough, we kiss too much or too little... we suffocate or give too much space...
To find the balance is the key but now all doors are locked for me.
One day, who knows, maybe I'll get a right turn, but for now I just keep going 'till the time to turn comes again.

My life without it

That's life, that seems to be my life: without it!
It - a thing (love), a person (you, her), a feeling (love again, maybe happiness), a land (here?)...
Clouds form in the skies to gray my life, to make my days so much more similar to my soul... Rain hides behind the sun, but the moon doesn't show up either and I feel lonely, perfectly empty without the reason of my survival - feelings, happiness, love, you!
Having you here and not having you at all. Feeling your skin and your lips and not being able to distinguish you from ice, cold heartless rock...
My empty troubled mind generates no good ideas, no good sentences or verses now that I find myself completely lost in this small dream of mine...
One day a dream will be real again! One day I hope to still be here to live it again...