Walking the Tightrope by Black Mirror
Listen
the hiss of silence
that remains after the screams
of that ghost that no longer shows his face
Walking
through the desert
of pleasant indifference
no pain no grudge
Now I feel the ice of my winter on my skin
the fire of my summer
the tremor in my veins
Timeline has lost its endings, no tails to choke on
line is dot, and is my ground
walking the tightrope
The mountain
we had to climb
now gives me beautiful landscapes
to fly over with you
Sometimes
your hand, close,
other times
The ground you step on
isn´t underneath me
Now I feel the ice of my winter on my skin
the fire of my summer
the tremor in my veins
Timeline has lost its endings, no tails to choke on
line is dot, and is my ground
walking the tightrope
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