The Many Thoughts Lying in This Bed (18+)

Standard

Hm
Oh
Ay
Here
Right here
Your hand placed
There
Right there
Your hips tightened
In this bed
Alone
I smell you

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The Alcoholic

Standard

The older it is
The better it tastes
Pour the thick black wine down your throat
Let the liquid cut into your tongue
Burn your pharynx
Turn your stomach
The more she ferments the torment
The better it tastes

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The Pain

Standard

Break it once
Break it twice
Minced heart
Missing pieces
Break it thrice
Regrets
Flaws
Tragic beauty
Haunting heartache
Break it some more
The nerve no longer works anyway

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The Julietisation of Romeo

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They opened their eyes
They survived
White embroidered curtains
Flowers of the town
Everyone and everything was strange to him
Except his love lying in the opposite bed
Their angry glares faded
Their fists loosened
He was allowed to weave a future with her
Only if he never returned home
Family and friends of his never saw him again
Not even certain whether he was alive or dead

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The Celebration

Standard

Champagne glasses high in the air
They celebrated at the top of the rough mountain
Ribbons of rainbow colour
They danced in a big circle hand in hand
Jumped
And the mountain got pressed lower
Moved
And the mountain changed in shape
They celebrated
On top of this mountain
Of skeleton

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