textovanie..

Matchwoods.

You broke the cain over my head,

Matchwoods are now, stock in my bed.

I feel it in my lids,

I can escape from you jaws.

And sun is item in lost and founds,

And no one, can´t begin, can´t begin..

Let me go to places when i draw my own shoes,

I wanna put them in marinade,

And keep fishing with the juice

And just loose, all the chains.

Crawling down the begining, you lash and fist on my back,

I´m trying  escape from matchwoods,

You stock in my bed..

Let me go to places when i draw my own shoes,

I wanna put them in marinade,

And keep fishing with the juice

And just loose, all the chains.

22.8.20XX 

Broken Snowwhite.

You are little girl,

Don´t try catch eyebrows of trees.

You are little girl,

No one will ever see your needs.

You are tiny freckle on the armpit of shadow,

You have to realize, that wind isn´t narrow.

Lokking for mirror, picturing his temptations,

Little Snowwhite, asking for directions.

You don´t have to eat all apples in dungeons,

Just realize, you don´t belong to books.

Sometimes it doesn´t mater,

If you are feeling truth in chest,

Sometimes it isn´t possible,

Build ceramic nest.

In some story, you will have your ending,

But ceramic home, can´t never bend.

Little Snowwhite, just don´t eat apples,

cause there isn´t needles,

which can tied it up..

Hey little girl,

Maybe one day

trees make a bow to your cry.

It is just pitty,

That under eyebrows they don´t have eyes.

Hey little girl..

You are one of the tousand, and still you are here,

You are mousse in headache

Believing old trees.

Sometimes it doesn´t mater,

If you are feeling truth in chest,

Sometimes it isn´t possible,

Build ceramic nest.

In some story, you will have your ending

But ceramic home, can´t never bend.

Little snowwhite, just don´t eat apples,

cause there isn´t needles,

which can tied it up..

you are little girl,

don´t try  grow up to men.

24.8.20XX

Morning pillows.

I don´t have regrets about letting dreams,

Making cotton candy in morning sleep,

No hill can be stolen

By mindless man,

Under pillow you can hide and also lend.

Scars on skyline, is made by liberals

And organic fingers can build new Rome,

On the top of the bubles,

Are secret windows,

Where little feeling always goes.

Don´t touch my sound when i´m falling asleep,

You can stratle that precious moment,

And bubble can pop to blameless sheets,

And my mind can be stolen.

Don´t go inside rooms, you can stop grass growing,

and night can be black and white.

Make sure you are bare,

Like dreaming  soundless side.

25.8.20XX

Visiting Lady just unneeded.

Sound of phone is bound to my ears,

Scratching eyelashs,

Digging heartbeat

Binding sleeves around  my lungs,

Simply making me crazy.

Why so silent old friend ?

Your health is like reunion to all wars

Which was solded by my forgiveness,

Your health, white flag stocked in my body,

Smoking last of self-esteem through thin long chimney

Your health, last Jew begging for one minute of silence,

Your health, your health..

Body that I pray for,

White hands that can change core,

I´m not stopping touching you,

Through the death, through all the crew.

That day I came and see you sick,

Make my last glassy brick.

Your need of me is now distant,

And cranes are skating around my chest,

Sound of phone, or death bugs dancing,

Can´t change the graveyard on my breast.

28.8.20XX

Air control.

Place for wings, are now rented,

By engines of iron mitt,

Just air, air is waiting,

For all the times

When colours can pretend.

Days go by, and i am inching,

Summertime, leaves are changing

Yelow from the sun,  is imprinted in the flowers,

Earth and grass, stay beside the gin.

Making toasts we are barely touching

Leaving august,

Making patches.

Belief that air is clear freedom

Is tea time down the rabbit hole,

Only Alice belong to places,

where time and air is gone.

1.9.20XX

Not weasel anymore.

Changing my weasel habbits,

Recharging eyes with world,

Sprouting up to highs

Colloring from the burrow

What am I doing ?

What am I doing ?

It is crazy.. just too weird..

Come on, little weasel, leave my arms,

Let me stare at the waves,

Wearing glare ties.

Little girl, little weasel,

Grown up today.

How long were you founding,

Warm place to stay.

What am I doing ?

What am I doing ?

It is crazy.. just too weird..

curl up, it isn´t possible.

This armful is sold.

No more weasel,

But still woman,

Which can´t chosse right world.

What was I thinking ?

What was I thinking ?

It was crazy.. just too weird..

2.9.20XX

Red

Red is the colour in which I release scream,

Or at least just little sound between echo,

Dust hidden under dolly´s tiara,

Drinking forbidden jim beam.

Red is the colour of escape, freedom and flight over the mud

She can waltz and crawl in same rythm,

And still she´s lady wearing cap.

Just run through honey chimney,

Pull your hands and slice fame down,

Red is strong and still she´s feeling

How heads is dropping painful sound.

Red releasing

Red confident

Red alone

Red again..

In mousy streets, in autumn coats,

She´s leaving little change,

In clatter of boots,

She is painting tails,

No one can escape, fairytale faith

Red releasing

Red confident

Red alone

Red again..

Just run through honey chimney,

Pull your hands and slice fame down,

Red is strong and still she´s feeling

How heads is dropping paintfull sound.

Red releasing

Red confident

Red alone

Red again..

3.9.20XX