The flying pig

I can’t stand it,
It tastes like something new,
but familiar.
Like loneliness but sweeter,
like love but harder,
like time…
but endless.
It feels like flying,
sometimes like drowning on fire,
and the rest of the time,
basically I’m just confused.
But I guess its fine,
to lose all control, 
to forget about control,
to be completely,
under no control.
It’s just about stop talking,
stop thinking,
and jump into the cold water,
if you survive,
you will love to do it again.
Its fast,
like poison,
it kills you,
takes over,
you feel like a new born,
but with happiness conscience.
Why does it feel so right?
Why was I so wrong?
Why is that hard?
Why I can stop thinking about you?

I love the way you listen,
to what I do,
And instead of talk,
you understand me,
with your actions.

I feel like a flying pig,
Although i haven’t noticed yet,
I have no wings,
or at least i didn’t remember I could fly,
such a great heights.
Like the song.

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