Companion in life, knight under the full moon. The snow on Londons god forsaken streets remind me of your skin, I keep on filling my pockets with it. Trying to bring you homer with me. You melt, you disappear, slipping through my fingers. Impossible to hold, impossible to let go.
These walls are screaming, the air is white from cigaret smoke that never's allowed to leave. Windows stay closed here, I try to capture my own shadows. Much like you, they're impossible. They run. Blood stained foot prints, old paintings smelling like death. Every single book ever written ( before this century of course) creating an layer on top of the floor. I walk on top of them. Float on stories thats been worn out. They're just as tired as I am.
What did you dream last night?
I dreamt of you. In your mothers blood stained wedding dress you smiled and you had some sort of sick desperation in your laugh.
Companion of mine, give me life.