Just come or go, just get
on out of the twilight, I can't
get you off my mind, this is
poison for my third eye.
You're not here, but
you just won't disappear:
keep on stepping into
my line of vision
but when I reach out to touch you
my hand goes through you
like a phantom.
Haunting me through memories:
like a tip-of-the-tongue kind of feeling;
a spiritual itch that I haven't even
got the limbs to scratch.
You took my breath away,
then I held it for you.
I tried to let go, but I'm
choking between
inhale and exhale as you're
filling me up
and sucking the life
out of me at
the same time:
Is it all in my mind?
For it's clear:
You're just not here,
but you won't disappear:
keep on stepping into my line of sight
but when I reach out to touch you
my hand goes through you
like a fucking hologram.
Haunting me through memories,
killing me through relativity,
murdering me through my
recognition of then's stark
contrast to now:
Why can't you just vanish or re-solidify?
Disappear from my nostalgic reflections
or walk right back into my life?
I can see right through this,
but, transparent or not, it's
there none the less,
coloring everything that
I see through it
and you just won't move
on out of my way.
Sometimes I wish I never
knew how great it could be
to bathe in the comfort of your arms,
naked and vulnerable in serenity,
because you left me
cold and alone out here --
I know you didn't mean to;
such cruel intent is not in you --
but you left me in the smoke,
choking blind out here
with only one thing left to see:
the dead moment when
I could breathe
now I choke in
the in-between,
so please just
come or go, just get
on out of the twilight, I can't
get you off my mind, this is
poison for my third eye.
on out of the twilight, I can't
get you off my mind, this is
poison for my third eye.
You're not here, but
you just won't disappear:
keep on stepping into
my line of vision
but when I reach out to touch you
my hand goes through you
like a phantom.
Haunting me through memories:
like a tip-of-the-tongue kind of feeling;
a spiritual itch that I haven't even
got the limbs to scratch.
You took my breath away,
then I held it for you.
I tried to let go, but I'm
choking between
inhale and exhale as you're
filling me up
and sucking the life
out of me at
the same time:
Is it all in my mind?
For it's clear:
You're just not here,
but you won't disappear:
keep on stepping into my line of sight
but when I reach out to touch you
my hand goes through you
like a fucking hologram.
Haunting me through memories,
killing me through relativity,
murdering me through my
recognition of then's stark
contrast to now:
Why can't you just vanish or re-solidify?
Disappear from my nostalgic reflections
or walk right back into my life?
I can see right through this,
but, transparent or not, it's
there none the less,
coloring everything that
I see through it
and you just won't move
on out of my way.
Sometimes I wish I never
knew how great it could be
to bathe in the comfort of your arms,
naked and vulnerable in serenity,
because you left me
cold and alone out here --
I know you didn't mean to;
such cruel intent is not in you --
but you left me in the smoke,
choking blind out here
with only one thing left to see:
the dead moment when
I could breathe
now I choke in
the in-between,
so please just
come or go, just get
on out of the twilight, I can't
get you off my mind, this is
poison for my third eye.
