By all strengths of imagination, I’ve lost myself with the timepiece I gave you, the hours and seconds of labour on a love that was unreal
My temper is timely, my sorrow is you and I. The death of our love was the birth of my love. Realer, finer, sweeter. You can try it too if you’d like. Fire never burnt those without imagination.
Pick up the phone. It won’t kill. Pick up the phone, you have my watch. Pick up the stone, your house may shatter like the pieces of my heart that scattered on the ground. That wasn’t enough. You thought it suitable to throw them into the fire. Like the seeds they threw into the soil, you set my soul on fire.
I have no choice but to embrace love. I have no choice but to embody it with every strength of my soul. If I don’t, who will survive?
This is much more than you and I. This is a genetic script, a story too long for your lips or mine. You are who you say you are. Say no to fire. Be on your way.
I want my watch back. The love went to rust and my time will never be mine again. I could have been somebody.
I want my soul back. I need this time to live. I need this time to love myself. I need it. I want my watch back, please.
I speak like a broken record. It’s been seen before and said before. Pay no mind to my trivial stories. Imagination is our liberation as I uncover your soul with the range of my woes.
Pay no mind to the broken chime. Pay no mind to the stolen time. London nights, Greenwich blues. Your eyes were quite the fright on those freezing nights. Pay no mind to my forgotten time.
We were made for so much more. Focus and see.
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