I am a ghost I am a ghost I am a ghost though not scary I am a ghost a ghost who’s fading I am a ghost fetched from a kid’s nightmare from a kid’s nightmare that was not scary I am a ghost I am a ghost a ghost who’s fading into reality
If singing blues were a thing birds could do, they wouldn’t be named blues, they would be named yellow, and they wouldn’t be the same thing.
Could it be real?
How can this be? How can I feel on top of me a body I have yet to see? is this me imagining hearts beating, heavy breathings? or could it be real?
reality shaped at first sight modified through time take from me first glimpses work with me some time let’s reach a conclusion what reality is is not what it was
She will not know love for rain until with your embrace She gets to fall as rain does
My head hurts on anticipation I just need to focus on someone else something
I am going to say this once. You breathe, you walk, you talk like anyone else would breathe, walk or talk. You choose topics no different from those seen in magazines, and you use the same God-damned words you read. You see the pilot of several new TV shows, but you never see the second one; where’s the follow-up? If they happened to have been dramatic enough, you shed your tear or two, but...
we will understand.
there’s people who claim to understand These people will never do even if I set myself to explain I’ve decided now there is no use in wasting my words I hope to find a soul some day one which comes already knowing for us to set ourselves together to the posing of a hundred questions more we will already have an edge and if we end together we will have won
I hear you when I read you.
When one starts to assign the sound of voices to words, to phrases that cannot be heard but only read then is when one starts to fall or at least when I start to fall and I think you will not catch me therefore I fear what’s happening I fear the sound of your voice I mean the mental recreation of your voice but how beautiful it is!
Home is not places, it is love what happens then, when we have lack of such. Are we taken to a shelter? Am I going to be taken to a shelter? Where is this shelter? If home is not places, If home is love, have I been homeless without knowing? Will I ever know I’ve arrived home?
it was a storm, the way all of those possible reactions twirled around his head. He picked the worst, though he had no way of knowing back then. There is no way for him to know until the end. Now, when the expected resolution is not there; how do you tell someone he’s been playing a solitary game which no longer has a possible solution?
Have you wondered where they hide all the darkness that allow their smiles to shine the way they shine since their smiles shine as bright as stars, and stars can be seen only when it’s dark? Have you wondered where they hide?
I see her every day as the first time I got to see her, hence my incapacity to fall for her; our relationship lacks depth.
She was crying out for ears to hear her She was crying out for arms to embrace her She was crying and I was drowning, helpless I asked her to save me, but she couldn’t hear she was not able to hear me.
An endless spring.
you don’t have to worry for spring not to come again Flowers have been drawn on the edges of your dreams and they’ll remain coloured for as long as I live
In my life someone to whom I could text good morning good night who do I need to ask for someone in my life?
They could have fallen for one another, but Instead of noticing each other’s presence, they were both texting.
A hand. There was a hand on top of my hand; of that I am sure. Fingers. Fingers that glided along my arm; I felt them once. They stopped on my right shoulder. My right shoulder was touched with love; of that I’m sure. Across my back it made my neck turn how those fingers glided with grace and clear intentions; they made me look. They made me stand. I followed, and how they allured me...
Answers are required.
What do we measure love to? How to say no one will love you like I do? How to feel deep within an unclear concept? How to live life with such love as the only prospect?
She forgot the taste of freedom.
Let her go let her go she’s a ghost already let her be let her free let her taste reality Let her go back Let her go find what she lost is outside If she comes back if she comes back welcome her with opened arms
tears are unlike ink on paper useless they won’t let words be therefore the tears cried the words written are useless tonight because they can’t be seen I guess that what I’m saying is do not expect to read from me
A werewolf's rest
Children will sleep safe at least for tonight The crows won’t caw at least not tonight I will stay home at least for tonight since the moon won’t shine
You, as a whole.
I drew a portrait of you on a Saturday morning it was burnt I took another shot today this Sunday Night and though it was better though I could see you there I reached a conclusion You can never be drawn because graphite or any other will never convey the beauty, that your bones, your nerves your veins, your flesh, your skin; that you convey.
Will I understand?
If you allow me tonight I would appreciate biting your upper lip and gently kissing the other as my fingers make their way amongst the wilderness of your hair my tongue wouldn’t mind dancing with yours hand in hand our bodies colliding against each other Such words I didn’t have to ask for you read them in my eyes and grant every single one of my desires Help me understand now ...
Paintings are filled with strokes of brushes that might have gone wrong, but we will never know. What we see, Art, Its complete self is flawless; beautiful. Then Why aren’t we all judged as if we were a permanent exhibition on life’s museum? Why can’t we all be seen as ensembles, rather than small pieces of what on the future might be?
I can cry, but I choose not to shed my tears into a world that could get them frozen. I can cry, but it is raining in your world my tears would mean nothing.
SECRET No one will be able to tell because it was dark, but because it was dark everyone can tell.
There are moments in which lies cannot be woven during such moments He’s been told his kisses are kissed the way kisses are supposed to be kissed
With the promise of mischief Bags are packed tonight What will happen then Sunday’s sunrise is to tell
Some things just are, but we, humans, have not been designed to accept that.– ean
barefoot steps over wooden floor the click which lights the light bulb crystal gliding from aluminium base water filling up crystal container the match head’s friction, the ignition the fire, the spider burner, the heating-water coffee bean falling into the grinder blades fulfilling the sweetest of massacres ceramic falling onto marble top plastic cone on top of the ceramic cup paper...
It sounds to me that you are craving recognition since you carry that old canvas everywhere you go I can see how no one pays much attention to every colour you’ve used, they seem to be turning grey but I want to say how great you portrayed every grim every smile, every glimmer on every eye, and if I owned a place where your work could be displayed I would send everyone an invitation to...
I will be home forever, you’ll carry me around, on these photographs.
I'll take you there.
I’d like to take you there where poetry meets reality and the trees grow free maybe for breakfast maybe for dinner I still need to find out which one is your favourite time of day either way I’d like to take you there where a table awaits just for two us no one else a table awaits there you’ll be able to tap your fingers against the crystal glass whether it holds juice or...
Movies are made out of darkness as well as light; it is the surpassingly brief...– Rebecca Solnit, A Field Guide to Getting Lost (via dontoverthink)
Is this the truth that’ll set you free? Is this a message you’ve longed to hear? Does it feel like the sun during each dawn the way in which you call each other dear? You feasted on every piece I got to own complete then, now I wonder where I belong Broken into pieces I never thought I’d be until indifference you bestowed upon me Part now. My heart still, somehow, beats though...
For ease, I will wait.
I found out that there was no place where I could be alone; these storming thoughts, the sound of your voice, they won’t just simply stop. Wise men have said, also from others I’ve heard one day this all will go away; I’ve packed my brains, my clinging self; I am ready to wait.
Somehow and quickly my heart’s warming up for you; my new favourite.
The moon saw my eyes, she wonders why they are locked at her sight I don’t think she has noticed the beauty she holds against the sky The moon, she’s a clever woman she noticed how deep in my heart there’s a place for a special lady a place? a void? a place at last I meant not to cry at her presence I thought my tears would upset her but, the moon, she holds not only beauty she owns...
I’ve been out my connection it has been lost and my contribution poor do hold your breath I’ll come again once It’s paid the internet I’ll be back soon… I hope.
Light which once traveled got traped onto a frame with a click! with a click! it got trapped onto a frame If we develope the picture, what will we get to see? in a blink! in a blink! will the light which once traveled ever be free? Day 22
Lines for the Fortune Cookies.
People know your name; you don’t know theirs. That warm kettle you live in will, one day, boil. It was raining season. You are ready for swimsuits. A sunflower looks for sun; what are you looking for? One day you’ll turn your head away from a crappy future. You’ll marry, you’ll be happy, you’ll have what you did not plan. You’ll have a baby boy, and...
it is a matter of two cities the way our sights collide are we declaring war? this does feel as explosion. I set myself to conquering the world you eagerly protect But I’ve fallen in a trench, and from your weaponry there’s no saving it is a matter of two cities but knowing who conquers who serves now no use it was a matter of two cities two cities once at war nowadays they...
A balding, burning with desires to be called a writer, young adult with an adequate taste in music looks for a cute kind of girl with whom he could get lattes now and then. Day 19
Amongst the fire
Particles fly amber coloured dreams I see the future different I feel when I get to know what I’ll leave What I’ll live Will I choose? Do I get to choose what I live? among these particles what I see future or dreams? no one else gets to see my life, my future, my dreams they can only see amber coloured particles only particles Day 18 : Start and finish your...
sprung like flowers will adorning each corner of this maze -my mind- bringing white to this once black smile thank you and welcome Day 17:Greetings
On How I set my future free
sweet the air I once breathed while I was kissing my future’s lips soft the skin I once touched while I was holding my future´s hips raw feelings once conquered me I did not know what to believe My future I once set free Now aimlessly I wander on this empty street Day 16