de-titled.

[zarlon]

[even though this is old... it still matches the mood.]

seal envelopes with a kiss,
and we reach out hands to make a perfect circle,
but it's not my hand you're holding,
the mystery still remains.

the smoke echos across my walls
filling my room with its monstrous jaws
in night you can walk unseen
but unheard is a little farther away from the truth

tell me, would you wait and watch,
as i fished through my brain for the missing link;
pots and pans abandoned under rusty sinks.
and i still feel like i'm someone else.

walking through walls, flesh means nothing;
unless you're in some kind of dreamworld,
so i'll turn the other cheek and say;
with all the anonymity i can muster,

welcome to surreality.