I am the song,
And sometimes I am the siren,
And sometimes I bring the fire
And your whole house down.
There’s good and bad in me,
There’s bad and good in you,
And in the middle of the night,
In your dreams
You only see nightmares of me
And taste the dreams you could have with me.
Sometimes I cut, bring on the harsh truths,
And sometimes you cut me,
Indifferent and apathetic.
Someday we’ll switch the roles,
The pain will stay the same.
I am the siren,
And sometimes I am the song.
But most of the times I am that poor fisherman
Drawn out by waves and sounds and voices.
Arhive categorii: literatura
Time
And I always thought life was hard,
Demanding,
Tiring,
Upsetting even.
Some mornings were definitely difficult,
And some nights were sleepless,
My body was not my own,
My thoughts were not the best,
And yet I’ve powered through.
We’ve powered through it all.
We thought there’s going to be more time
To reach to where we want to be,
To go to all the places we want to see,
To feel all of the love we want to feel.
The truth is simple, hard, demanding,
Tiring, even upsetting.
The only time we have left is now.
We can’t go back and change the past,
We can’t go forward and fix what we don’t know.
And day by day, and night by night,
We draw in breath; we draw in life.
There is no dark, there’s only light,
The death is silent, no more strife.
London
And it took me ages to get home,
In a city I would’ve never thought I’d call home.
This is where magic happens,
Where I’m equally invisible and very observable,
Where you could walk without getting anywhere,
Where you could go without getting somewhere,
But where places are home everywhere.
You can walk on the Southbank,
Imagining how it feels to swim down the river,
Or you could go south the Thames, where all the fancy people live.
You can walk through Camden
And taste the wild side,
Or go to the museums and galleries,
And find that life is on the palm of your hand,
Listening to you, feeding you, tasting you…
I know I’m home now; I’ve stopped missing myself.
The Only Thing
Who are you after all the people are gone?
After you turn off the lights that fill up your life,
And turn off the music,
And get in your own bed?
Do you like yourself? And who you’ve become?
Do you miss the acceptance of others,
And the hugs from the mothers
You’ve had?
The friends that keep running towards you
And giving you purpose?
Who are you, when all you have now is time?
And who you were supposed to be when all the lights were gone?
Do you run from yourself
Or do you run from others?
Do you think you’re a work in progress
Or do you think you’re done baking?
Do you have certainties about you
Or is the only thing you a very clear unknown?
Are you happy and kind? Or are you at least trying?
There is still time for you to learn all of this,
To learn yourself,
To learn the others,
To learn love and despair,
Hope and breathing in the air.
The only thing you’ll always have
Until the day you die
Is time.
Legacy
And all of this time I’ve known about the brevity of life,
How special, tiny and scared we are,
How little we matter
In an ocean of feelings,
How big we are,
And how small are our healings.
I knew that you’re leaving,
And somehow it made sense.
But I am still dreaming
Of days that are less tense,
Of days when you’re here,
Your legacy unforgotten,
Of days when I’m happy,
And smiling more often.
faith
faith requires so little of you,
and gives so much of it instead,
it’s just a door that remains open always,
and you can choose to follow that,
or you can choose to stay.
but fear not, my friend, you’ll always be welcome.
No Words
No words in you,
But something screams in me,
And there’s darkness,
There sadness,
There’s you,
But so little of me.
It’s like you feel the voids,
But then I am the void,
And there’s nothing to fill me up with.
No movement in me,
While you drift away,
How can I fucking make you stay?
PS: You left me all empty, how does that make you feel?
This world is too real,
Too cruel,
Too unsual.