The creativity

It must flow

Usually it doesn't come

But sometimes words just get around

Wrap a package inside your head.

Living daylights

I see

I feel

I know

And I think

I see the light reflected on the mirror

I feel the buses passing by

And the tires, on the hot asphalt

loosing it's content, molecule per molecule.

---

I see someone running on the street

It's dark, late night, only lights are his company

He runs in the middle of the street

the asphalt is wet

And he runs

The more he runs, the faster he gets

Up to a point where all starts disintegrating

first his clothes, small pieces flowing back

then his skin

his eyes jump off, but he still runs straight

there's no pain

Now his muscle's are bare and naked

And the speed suddenly becomes so strong

In a fraction of seconds, he disappear

he is nothing.

never existed.

but he's everywhere.