Lives like in the reverse gear

Feel me exhausted like during old days
Tears hang somewhere
I leave them only not out.
Too largely the fury, the annoyance, the not yet-hatred.
Fury: about me
Annoyance about bad words which appear superfluously to me like.
Like that old love after which no love was so really possible can also not feel today I love, because:
in me everything is deaf and empty.
No!
I look for the way out, even if the fear is much bigger than once.
Once? You were there for whom I wanted to live, son.
Today it is difficult to be there only completely so strangely hard, for itself?!

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