An Essay to Myself

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- Abfahrt nach London -

I saw the day break,

It remains a Sunday morning.

But I seem to have forgotten,

To leave this feeling of longing behind.

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- October -

Over the constant drum of alcohol

A lack of promises once made

You told me I had fallen

That our dance was built to fade

See, I walk with our baggage

Now your cry for more does taunt

A shame that our clock still circles

Day breaking on our detente

So who is now to blame?

For this moment we desire the most

Will you tell me I was never there?

Even in love

--

Do I remain a ghost?

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