Sometimes I feel as though I were slipping away,
Leaving behind only a face with a smile,
Losing my grasp on this reality,
Which seems barbaric when compared to dreams.
Dreams that are as beautiful
As Chopin’s concerto’s, as the melodies
Written by a heart in love.
Dreams that distort one’s perception of everything.
There I could dance with you until
The morning sun casts a light
On the glasses of wine we sipped throughout the night.
There we could be immersed in cigarette smoke and talk
And it would be love.
Now you don’t exist,
Because here that is not enough.
In this world all of this might be meaningless.
Now I am entirely alone.
What I have are memories,
Which I sabotage with my fantasies,
Because that is what I have always done,
What tears me apart.