Time tickles me sometimes
Right under the ribs
Till the point that it hurts
Something tells me that I'm young
But I know better than to believe it
By the window I sit peeling onions
Down till the last layer,
Five hours are passed
The needles of the clock sew holes in me
A thin thread keeps me from falling apart
And I fall apart anyway
Peeled down till the last layer
Something tells me that I'm young
But who is to believe 'something'
Every something withers with time, but time
The needles, the onions
even death perishes once in a while
Ceases to be just be'cause
Something tells me that I'm young
But I'm not, I'm older than I ever was.
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