The poison of spring has dissolved in my veins; A second is worth both my future and past. The more I denied my becoming insane, The sooner insanity touched me at last. The silence we hear is the laugh of my fate, The soundless laugh at the one I forgot - The yesterday's me - and the force to create The life I portrayed. But it's less than I've got. I love the invisible scars of my skin - The blades of your hands are so tempting, indeed. These words I give birth to just come from within, Revealing the truth till the scars start to bleed. These words cost two hours less than a night - Mixed feelings are harder to rhyme than small talk. Two hours more, and the things will go right As long as I fail my deceiving the clock.
