reality hits becoming all too familiar

becoming like a broken record really

-

missing my little irish mystic.

the night we shared was magic, i think i neglected to mention it before

absolute magic.

can you imagine,

ready to go, ready to leave for the much talked of byron bay

with nothing but the clothes i was wearing, my cigarettes and a full takn of petrol.

can you imagine?

why didn't i, why did i come back?

-

life used to be life like.

-

he was beautiful

white skin shaved head

really shaved, like incredibly smooth

asked if i thought he was a clever boy

talked of helping people, seven attempts, monastries and far off places

talked of sending me a ticket, getting me a passport

-

if i'm gonna go down,

i'm gonna do it in style

-

but i'm rarely one to believe bedtime promises

-

thats what defines me

-

too much of a realist at times perhaps

in my own little way

-

but his existence was so inviting

i could feel myself getting wrapped up in it

seduced by it

too good to be true

broke some habits for me

thanks for that

thanks for alot

-

but come back now and take me away

don't drop me off

don't say it's our last night

don't leave

me here

in this town

even he said it was bad, even he felt it was bad

so why leave me here?

kept talking of changing my life?

so why didn't you do it when you had the chance

now thats just bullshit darling, just saying it for the sake of it

you've got the chance to change your life every day

every second

why haven't you done it yet?

-

no need to get into all that now

stop yourself before you get too comfortable.

you will meet him again if things will be right

he believes it, so trust in that

and if worse comes to worse, you'll still be leaving this place one way or another

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