Nothing else

The Mistress of this house’s
been lost in emotions.
In the haze you find the
strawberry gate of confusion
and open it with your tongue.
Lights out! I’m burning!
I’m freezing!
Crazy I’m screaming
in front of the mirror,
leveling a crying guitar.
Hate my hands for not being
I wanna fall and fall into
your eyes
and drown where the color
turns purple
and the most controversial
becomes the main truth.
The nothing-ness of
similarity frustrates me
and I creep like hypnotized
towards the fatal look
in your eyes.
And nothing else matters.