something inside is a-stirring and churning
it hits against my cranial box
leaving tiny dots of despair
when i look your way, they shake like salts
so when you cry i don’t cry
i float on cheap red wines miles away
and the moon rise and rise
but i do not rise with it
i jive in feverish moods
in the urban noises i keep on jumping through hoops

so when you cry i don’t cry
i go into a cave deep down below
my hands scribble your name on the walls
to weigh in the math of your existence
and make sense of it
perhaps it’s the childhood years in the eighties
spent staring at pavements wondering
why it couldn’t be lava instead

back then the “future” was such a big word
and when i breathed, i breathed in life itself
i shone with stars and played with invisible friends
i thank aliens for David Bowie and
joyously gazed at candle light
and when you cried, i cried with you
when you ran, i ran with you
I imitated your every word and gesture
sometimes i thought i was you
and when the moon rose, I flew towards you or perhaps
the world twirled twirled around me
drunk with the night air and without a care, i went to sleep
but one morning i woke up to a different you
when you walked, i couldn’t walk with you
it was pitch dark i lost the sight of you- i learned about fear
when you talked, i couldn’t hear you
it was so silent, i counted your heartbeats- i learned about boredom
when you jumped, i broke few bones
it was painful – i learned about gravity and death
So when you cry i don’t cry
and when i feel, i don’t feel at all