Is This It?

I look at the orange sky,
and its thoroughly rotten and empty.
The birds are finally tired of flying.

Is this it?

Sitting on the edge of my balcony,
my feet flirting with gravity,
my cellphone dead,
and the bottle almost finished.

Is this it?

I search in the libraries of my head
between dusty shelfs
between big black hard book covers
between roses
and pale rainbows of feelings.

Is this It?

There is something big missing here.
The doupt is still there,
like the biggest train
stuck in the middle of the desert,
my dreams crawling in 3d class
along with my fears and floes.
Everything forgoten and poor.

Is This It?

There is an army of questions and thoughts below the surface of Mars
swimming in the dark
cold ocean
filled with the white creatures
that represent the thousand breaths
of my imagination.

Is this It?

One last smoke then,
flying in my lungs
while a beautiful female feels alone
in the middle of a city
with radioactive acts
and transmutated birds
and feathers
and skins
and Gods.
Something in the distance
is screaming warnings,
and the flowers bloom
in the death of every century.

Is this It?

The rain just started...

LEONORA.

You've spend the youngest
most innocent years of your life
in an eldery asylum,and
by the age of ten you had your own pharmacy
and the sound of dragging bedroom slippers
were too familiar to you.
You've learned Hypocrisy by the back
of its hand
and 8 eyes are looking at you,
none of them cheering or happy.
You are alone,
you always knew it,
those eldery eyes stuck in nowhere always proved it.
Your parents died three times,
and your new are about to.
Death to you my friend
death to me and
no more flowers.
Please.