Bet you can't see it.
Bet you can't see anything around here,
Because I laugh and ask for a quick kneecaping like that would solve all my problems (it would hurt less that I'm sure of)
and at the same time I'm having a separate conversation,
with myself, with you, with anyone listening,
and this is what I came up with.
I admit that, god, I don't know if I'm an agnostic,
most probably not an atheist.
Pretty sure I'm not educated enough on the subject.
My hands don't resemble the conventional praying form -
with a cigarette and last morning's coffee occupying them -
while I argue with lit candles that I don't know if I'm losing fate.
And god I don't really persume that you're awake this late in the game,
but if by some miracle you are, and I knew you are,
you see, I'd call myself another name
and you'd be someone else as well.
But you can't see it, that's what it has come down to, that's my conclusion.
I bet you couldn't see it at all.
That's why you could never understand -
because you'd be something else entirely -
and I wouldn't curse you with the first light that hits my eyes,
and ask for forgiveness when I'm drunkenly trying to understand why am I seeing two moons that high in the sky.
And I'm sure of the answer,
I know it in my bones.
But I still ask anyway because that's just in my nature...
God, are you awake?
And I pray you don't answer,
or lie if you have to.
Because if you were
I wouldn't have mentioned you under my breath all those times,
when we buried him,
when we waited,
when I wrote about the empty skies,
or when he said his last goodbyes.
What I said,
Under my breath,
Onto his neck;
Love's dying breath
would only be explained
by your ignorance.
