will likely come back
disguised as beggars
pleading for your virtue
what you give
lingers like fog
as you find your way
lanterns held high
the world is round about
you can travel miles
find yourself staring
in the mirror
what you steal
will likely steal you
when you aren’t looking
for escape or redemption
The fear of not
being good enough.
A toxic relationship,
with myself.
Through my lips will slip,
What once was written on my shelf.
What I am,
is what I am not.
Never satisfied,
with what I do.
So i'll leave it untried,
until I get through,
with my twisted point of view,
of really not wanting to disappoint you.
I keep my feelings
all stuffed away
in my heart
Like Tupperware in a cupboard
waiting for the day
you forget how full it is
And it all comes crashing down
with once quick glance
inside
After a quick tracking shot along the dark corridor
there's a panning shot of the room.
A jazz tune assails the quietness
and the lamp sheds a yellow print
on the cloths and papers scattered over the floor.
Your thoughts suddenly make a retrospective start,
then they return to the untidy place
–there's always a return–
and they retry their worthless struggle
bending their backs as waves would do.
There's no one in this room
except the invisible hero,
absurd and stubborn, for not in vain
wev'e already made use of a simile that approaches
the magnificent tedium of the sea on the shores.
The furniture is scant and the cold winter wind
I'm scared.
What if I look at you and
decide that
I don't love you anymore.
What if that spark goes away? What will I do then.
There is no one else for me.
Thunder rumbles from inside this house,
Behind thin walls of paper,
There's no separating the beautiful from the foul.
The fools in this home will never go unnoticed, you make a boom wherever you go, with no warning to the people within.
You make ears bleed,
Eyes water,
And glass shatter.
It all gets so overwhelming,
Everyday there's a new wonder,
Another grand thing, yet no wing
To safely hide under.
I've became frustrated
With the constant hysteria
-so complicated, often unrelated
Things always spreading through the area.
If only there was a little spare time
To sit down with pastries and coffee.
Only sometime, would it be a crime,
To let the world simply be?
Wouldn't less knowledge feel right?
With focus on one's own stuff,
No more urban blight, political fight
To overpower all else in a massive bluff?
I'm sitting in bed,
my room filled with darkness.
The eyes that shine red,
always at the same place.
Tonight is different,
they are closer than before.
I'm waiting for any movement,
or maybe even more.
I used to hide under my blanket,
whining and waiting.
Tonight is suspect,
I'm shaking and breaking.
I fear tomorrow night,
What if they come closer?
Already imagine how I fight,
Or finally saying: "Hello Sir."
I start to wonder about unnecessary things in the dark.
The later it gets, the worse it becomes.
I start to part my room in two halfes. There is a nice half, with good memories and a clean mind.
Plants and plans.
And then there is the other half, dark and messy.
A gloomy atmosphere, oppressively drab and grey.
The room is representing what's inside of my head, what's behind my eyes.
It depends on "who i am", on which half of my room - half of my mind I am.
I have legs, I can go from one half of the room to the other.
I have thoughts, I can switch from one mood to another.
But I feel like I've lost control over that.
black scarfs covering the mirrors that stare me down as i pose in fear
i can't see anything, but the monster is leaving its tears
so i pick them up and put them back again, when i walk out
almost slipping when I tiptoe my way out and into my own doubt
i wrap myself up in my blanket of comfort
i wrap myself up in my blanket of suffer
what about when i get cold feet?
what about when i want to fall asleep?
what about when i'm so dizzy that my weight is weighing me down untill i drown and i break some bones
i hear them crack, i just can't stand on my feet
do
i
eat
today?
or does it only add to the weight for the rest of my bones to break?
Listen,
I promise, you are the only one
Listen,
I promise, you are the only one in my heart
There's no one to love,
there's no one to like
In a dystopian world
where no one's alive
In a town where the cars,
are as empty as your heart
Don't tell me what to do,
Don't tell me what to think
I am your only option
Dust
covers my eyes and see nothing but darkness
Dust
I am wandering between the ruins
Unstable winds stop and blow again.
Screaming above my head a crow
Is it calling my disaster, or warns me?
It cannot talk that, how can I know?
I am wandering between the ruins
It blows outside, undecided winds.
The street is singing its own song
in a pell-smell...
Trash cans full.
Doesn't matter how much eats
Human even if,
though hungry soul.
Where, did I start the journey?
How many days?
How many months? maybe year...