Decide me

At first I was so angry.. oh so angry at you, you couldn't even begin to conceive. Or maybe you could, 'cause you where a kid too back then, so long ago, when the statues of society where still young and the symbols of youth were so old... Then I got less angrier and more indifferent, ignorant, forgetting but never forgiving. Forgiving what? Things existing only in my mind. You are what you are. Then I left home to come home, and what a home full of love and caring, so much of it that eventually I got sick...and ran away...deep into my mind, a place that never stops lighting in the darkest black-hole, sending flickers down my spine and roses into my eyes, making my hands glow and my mouth move insanely awkward and disguised into beautifully polished words that never stop flowing, never stop amazing through their metaphors of life. Then there was Christmas... and so there was him, that amazed me. And I amazed him. We blended and nothing more was necessary; and I began feeling alone after a while... and became angrier by the day, for the same unclear reason. Shut up, I said to myself, and think. So I thought... and I decided to run away again for my home had left me hanging on loose strings of a bad puppet master who knew nothing of handling my wise built sensations, so wise they got me standing on barbed wire. And I spent months searching for the right way to run away, the right way to do this right, and things got complex. So simple they were... and they grew in volume like hot air balloons rising to a red-clouded sky. And I lighted my cigarette once more watching it's spirals in the twilight of my eyes piercing through my thoughts as the rising sun cuts in the flesh of the night sky.
Now I'm still standing, and my request is simple, my desires are weak and breakable. I'm not angry anymore, I simply understood.

So light me another cigarette , mystery man, and take me dancing where the moon kisses the sea, make me walk the surface of my dreams, help me scrape the stardust from the awakening lilies in the morning mist. Let me fall into an ocean of tears so that I may know the sadness of the world and forget my own, push me off a cliff so that I may appreciate the beauty of nature from above and throw me in a field of poppies so that I may see how a blooded forehead and tired hands color years on one's memory. Last but not least bury me in shaded roses and let the thornes reach out to my heart such as arrows of a determined eagle, let them breathe... let them breathe me of everything I can give them better.