I have a habit
where I love you so much,
I stare into your eyes
and they’re so deep,
and yet you never liked them,
and then I have another habit
of dreaming of you,
but loving me more,
and these two loves keep fighting each other,
and only one will win.
Some time, all that will be left of me will be rain
and maybe wasted dreams,
wasted breaths,
but above all else
the smiles,
the tries,
the times it took for me to grow.
And some time, all that I am
will be enough,
and you’ll look at me and laugh,
because what else can you do
when I’m here with you?
More often than not I’m hurt,
suffering through broken toes,
biting my lips,
crippled spirit.
The most private thing I’m willing to admit
is that my love tastes like liquorice
combined with nasty bile
and it smells like lilies in full bloom.
Is there something else you’d like to know?
Or is the thought of me enough
to poison you?
the strangest case of heroin hope
that runs through my veins
and makes my head foggy,
it makes me so blind,
so bitter, so hot, so yearning,
it makes me want to shoot the skies,
maybe drop dead sometimes.
it’s just the strangest case of heroin hope,
the only method i can use to cope
with all the world,
the mess,
the death.
if i would’ve been blessed,
it would’ve been easier.
instead, i’m only here less and less,
i guess.
there are invisible threads from me to you,
connecting atoms, feelings, breaths of air.
there are invisible needs, or maybe wants from me to you,
and i don’t know how or when or if they’ll find their way back,
but it’s ok, because behind of all that threading, needing, and wanting
there is invisible scarring
just waiting to heal.
adun salbatice cuvinte,
si tot ce am acum in minte
e intrebarea daca el ma minte
cat eu stau si-l astept cuminte.
adun si rasuflari pierdute,
si nu mai are cine sa le-asculte
daca are sau nu cine sa m-ajute,
intre cafele cu arome de cucute.
adun tresariri ciudate,
si ceasul cand de miez de noapte bate
adu-ti aminte, dragul meu, ca sapte
sunt si-amare virtuti, si dulci pacate.
you can bend me,
but not break me,
mold me into cups so i can fit,
soon i’ll be spilling my guts outside of it,
and you’ll be left with overflowing rage.
you can stretch me,
but not break me,
pull at my insides from one corner to another,
soon i’ll be covering the whole world with wonder,
and you’ll be stuck underneath.
you can compress me,
but not break me,
squeeze my skull into my other bones,
soon i’ll have a river of blood close,
and you’ll get to drown in it.
my name is resilience,
that’s why you can’t break me.
even if you kill me,
my spirit will take me
away from this earth and into the minds
of people willing to listen this time.