If I stripped myself bare, would you see me for what I am?
Alone and forgotten, imprisoned by my own failings.
Could you take me for myself or would preconceptions bar you?
each moment of life is impregnated with your presence,
An aura of unfulfilled expectations.
I try to focus on my diminishing reason,
All I see is your face.
Locked away I try to purge myself of life,
But hope, one again, emerges.
A resurrection at the wake.
Peering through the residue of white line fever, I endeavour to avoid Nazimi.
Reproaching myself in sporadic flashes of lucidity,
Until your name flashes like neon in an uncleansed corner of my mind.
Reckless schemes rear up in the midst of my nightmares,
Only to slowly crumble in the harsh light of day.
How do you capture the warm glow whenever I hear you speak my name?
Or dispell the cold chill whenever you speak anothers?
But still I stagger from good intention to frenzied hallucination,
And still I cry your name in the dark of a winters night.