My mouth bleeds—
It bleeds, full of glass shards.
My words won’t reach as I speak;
Void of uncertainty won’t let it.
My thoughts would kill you
If I let my bugs die.
As new days pass like pale—
Unassuming gazes of people,
While everything is a second;
Mine is a minute.
As of now,
I shall treat the time
A second drink.

As I speak,
You would think this flesh
And blood is quite weak—
Under the pressure of thousands of flowers,
Which have such a foul scent, to be honest.
I will call your name just to deem you easy,
Yet such words will never reach—
As I speak.

At the end of the D-day,
It is just me and the void.
Frankly, you were never there—
Or rather there but as a mirror,
Mimicking me,
Destroying my only string of sanity—
Or perhaps resemblance of it.
Now, as I speak—
I no longer move my mouth;
Rather, my eyes
I gaze at the void—
And you gaze back at me.
We are one but none;
We are none but whole;
We are not there but here.
As I speak,
We shall exist
In this void of uncertainty.
As you speak,
We will hear no more but breathe.