Game Over

Game over.
I've lost as usual.

When I look up,
I see the same scene as usual;
me, in a coffee shop,
counting raindrops on the window,
contemplating about what philosophy there is behind
these cigarettes that smoke me nonstop,
an why they don’t quit me.

I burn my words with the smoke I inhale
so I don’t utter them.

I keep playing with my matches,
lighting them up,
so I won’t need the warmth of your embrace.

I play the violin
so it screeching sound
would make me forget the melody of your voice.

So I don’t hear your silence.

And after all this, I’ll be silent
and give the remaining words to my eyes
and close them shut,
so that there won’t be anything left to say.

It’ll be just me and whore of a heart that never managed to be your minds bedfellow.