I hit a rock 

Tasting the sand

I realised we’re going back to waste,

again …
Bleak mornings ,

Cold nights 

We’re almost back to home again…
Home? What home? 

I’m a nobody 

I’m a nomad 

I will keep running …till the end ..
When 3 words became 5 

I do not love you

I’m not going back down

I’m not going down again ..

The thing inside the ribs 

Maybe lungs 

Or the boombox 

Keeps quiet 

Almost not there 

The thing is I’m not 

You see me 

I think to be

No no

She was never even here