cigarette ashes
fly on the wind,
as i stare at my black coffee,
it gazes back at me.
black sobranie,
and i debate;
of all the people,
i find it hard to see
is there something
worth seeking.
just like dust,
i let them go
i never looked back
let them think i'm bore.
you may be
a world unseen,
yet i am so tired
no words flow well enough.
i'll just go lose myself
in paint and doubt
while i stare at my coffee,
and flit around.

Ever been happy so much,
You cried?

Ever been sad so much,
You laughed?

Yeah,
I love so much that I hate
I hate, so I must love
I'm a living mess
Who am I, wandering this place?

And know that I mean what I say,
I say what I know
But I know that not knowing anything
Is what I know the best.

A mess, tangled in wires
Of unsorteable emotions and
Unrecognized behaviours
Unknown thoughts,
Uncommon, just another head in the clouds.
Who are you to change this world?

A living contradiction.

To be or not to be?
To live, or not to live?
I know the unknowable thoughts

Because everyone knows what they do not know.
Everyone has their reason to live,
Or not to live.
So I said let it be!

So you can proudly say,
»I know the unknown!«

So you can always say,
»I know the unknown!«

poetry, poetry;
my little fairy,
i cut open my wrist
and lovely daisies blossomed!

poetry, tiny pretty ghost,
is it a good sign?
would you heal me, please?
i feel their roots in my veins...

poetry, you silly phantom,
it isn't pleasant anymore!
they're ******* my blood,
there's vultures in my bloodflow.

poetry, silver fanged wraith,
your roots are in my bones,
it's a temple crushing down.
the past is hunting me down.

poetry, my little fairy.
i'm nothing more than dust.
i love you, but i fall apart.
you brought my old demons back.

poetry, my little fairy;
i cut my wrist open,
and lovely rotten daisies bloomed!

a leaf falls onto the bench,
completely mute. you pick
it up, begging it to make a sound.
i wonder why, it won't work wonders;
i wonder why, has it fallen down,
i wonder why, are we all
just leaves, now
on the ground?

I'm feeling
Like an empty shell
But the core
Of nothingness
Is made out of
Pure sorrow

Empty
Is that the word?
It doesn't describe me
Hell, nothing does...
So I'll just
Keep doing
What I know best;

It's pretending
That I'm normal, even though
I am well aware that I'm not
And I was never near being normal
And I cannot be described by normal words

Empty...
Nostalgic. Melancholic. Sad. Depressed. Abyss. Apathy. Darkness.
Pretending to be
All that I'm not.
But, I don't know, what am I?

Empty...
Empty words can describe me.
But I cannot choose them myself;
If I could, what would I choose?
Maybe...
Dead?

I'm tired.
Exhausted.
Empty, inside.
Dead, inside.
Unable to be
The real me.

And it's wearing me down.
Every time I disappoint you.
Every time I'm empty.
Every time I'm not what I should be.
When I'm not enough.
And when I'm too much.

Empty words, empty head, empty promises, empty purpose, empty meaning, empty feelings.
Is that what you bring me down to?
Is that how you see me?
Empty, of humanity?

The words are echoing in my ears.
Empty.
That's the room I sit in.
That's the life I lead.
Maybe that's me.
Perhaps it is, when you don't see what I see.

Empty.
Happy, joyful, worryless.
Perfect, pretty, shallow.
Skillful, amazing, badass.
Crazy, mad, fun, reckless.
...but empty.

It's a mark you've made.
Are you happy?
That I'm empty?
That I'm turning into you?
Are you empty?
But am I?

A lot of people see me differently,
Like I just wrote.
Each line for one me.
Wait, I write?
Why didn't you write it down?
Because I had to write, EMPTY, twice?

So are you looking
At this empty moon tonight?
Are you staring at the starless sky?
Are you partying in your empty house?
Are you crying, in your room, or in  your empty soul?

Have you been feeling empty recently?
Is it contagious?
Do you feel sorry?
Did you mean everything you told me?
Did this world mean to hurt me?

Am I empty?
Is the world empty?
What's my empty purpose?
Is it to be empty?
Is it to be me,
Or is it to be you?

face after face,
i put an X on your face.
cross out all of you wonders,
one wonder after another.
drown you in the spine fluid;
blend you in with the memories.
do not miss me, for i
was just a little phase.

wherever i go
i see your footsteps
marking the snow in my heart

a silent whisper, your voice
sends shivers down my body
while i'm losing everything in your wind

once you have taught me how not to love,
how can i
ever love
again?

so how can i fight if
i'm not whole?
so how to fight if

wherever i go
i see your footsteps
marking the snow in my heart
quietly telling me,
"You can never love again".

He stood on the hill with his cap turned backwards,
And it made no logic at all
Since the sun was hitting his eyes, but he didn't seem to care
For the orange line, over his face

And yet, when I approached closer
He seemed further away, and the galaxy was spreading across his face
It looked like a magnificent burn
Which he got
From dreaming
Too much

The sun turned black and the boy was no more.
Now, the only thing I could see in front of me was a shade...
Not like I could describe it, since it was a shade of fear seen from my eyes.
I wasn't looking with my eyes, yet with my soul alone.

A discovery far more greater than what I've known my whole life.

So I, naturally, search for Hope and Dreams
My Ideals, too
Yet
I only found Illusions
Lying broken on the crimson floor
As the Life and Thought beat it up

But then a darkness far greater than all of the others came.
Really, it can't be seen with your eyes, so you need to look with your soul.
Blacker than the venta black.
Just a deathly black.

It was Him, for sure. Not Him as the God, but the one who takes your hand at the end of your suffering.
And so, Illusion's hand was taken
While Life and Thoughts spit on the ground and disappeared,

Death embraced me and him.

It was far more comfortable than I'd thought it would be;
An indisputable peace found only within your heart.
It's an irony, but it shine so bright
With it's darkness
That we both knew we were finally safe.

And the boy?
Oh, well he sat on the ground.
Took a sip of time
Like he always does, from time to time.

He looked at me, absorbing
All of my questions
Changing his form to however I
Had imagined him at that moment

And just when I thought I had caught up with him, he'd transform yet again.

Then it hit me.
He was Illusions himself;
And just when I wanted to
Embrace him and make him confirm,

Just like Hopes, Dreams, and
All of my Ideals...

He broke at that moment.

And all I'm left with
Is this blinding darkness
Sparkling with it's sweet venom;

I realise life is more and less that I had ever guessed.

Illusions are not to be trusted.

Because Illusions always break.

pretty, pretty
what a pity;
they say it's pretty stupid,
but i got hit by Cupid

pretty silly,
and i like it, really

soft cries
in your arms
silky layers
covering our secrets
murmuring words of
affection and love
let's be together,
your hand in mine
until the world is gone

i admire him.
from the first moment
i caught his glimpse,
i've admired him.
a will so sheer and strong.
no armour would resist.
it's just that, when our eyes meet,
i feel a connection that runs so deep.
intelligent, benevolent and true,
these words are for you.
the loyal friend, the genuinest soulmate.
all i do, is for you.
i hope you get the meaning
behind all of the things i do;
i wish we'd already meet again,
so that my lips would never
feel so lonely again.
so my empty gaze
would have something to look happily at.
so you and i could
be together, forever,
as we'd promised each other,
time and time again.

The eclipse lasts shortly,
And the moon shines
Merely because of the Sun's rays.
The moon may be gorgeous,
But everything it got
Was a gift from Sun.
Without it's gold spreading across the sky,
The moon is invisible.

That's why a Moon
Could never compete with a Sun.

and you feel so lonesome
you're always cold
want to, but can't go bold
you don't feel so awesome

your nails grip your tights
and you hurt yourself, so it will hurt less
can't handle all of this stress
can't seem to find the lights

and each and every day it hurts more and more
you lock it in yourself, the pain,
but you know you can never sustain
all the sore and the gore

put the headphones in your ears
screaming louder, the words of the song
but you know the song wasn't as long
it's a way to let out all of your tears

and every day you say you're fine
and each morning you wake up tired
but a trigger in your head had already fired,
nobody understood, it was a sign

and all of your colour has been drained,
nothing makes you wish you were awake,
and every day, all over again, you break:
but your ****** expressions have been well trained

so don't tell me I'm alright
don't tell me there's hope for humanity
this - all - is insanity;
don't tell me the world is a pleasant sight

and don't convince me otherwise;
everyone has their own meaning to life,
even if it's their own ******* knife,
or if they choose to rise


and I don't have a **** note

for you or your friends

because the world's posioned and everyday, for someone, it ends

....and nobody has the antidote

the night was starless
your face blank
and your eyes like
the galaxy was alit

a dangerous mix of colours
the most attractive danger
i have ever seen

it was beautiful, like you;
the sight of your golden hair
being tingled by the wind
while you were leaving

and you left me,
you left me
aflame

I see a silver glint
on your wrist, the
blood merely falling
off your lips

dropping a drop,
  one, two,
falling at the floor,
   three, four,
your eyes gazing at mine,
   five, six,
-do you still hate me,
      ...even now?-

when you opened
your skin
a trail of
quicksilver ran
and I heard the sound;

  seven, eight,
your brown, golden and green eyes,
  nine, ten,
I don't feel very
real, right now


   nine, eight
you once were happy
   seven, six
could we go back in time?
    five, four,
you put the blade back down
    three, two,
I love you as much as I do now,

   one; I am still alive.

another day has passed.
a day closer to the black sky.
and you read poetry today.
you read a book today.
But, what trace have you left on this planet, today?

Who will acknowledge it? Will you be misunderstood? Will a young boy with curly brown hair and silver eyes weep over your words for a hundred years, while listening to our now vintage songs?

Will anyone remember you? Will you matter, after the Earth makes hundreds of thousands of spins around the Sun, which perhaps is circling around something bigger? Will you reincarnate? Will you be alive? Will you just disappear, or will you stick around?

Is there hope for humanity, is there hope for immortality? Will they enable people to live forever, to find a way to break nature, a year after you die? Will people still follow the same traditions, as they do today, will families have lunch together like their ancestors used to have?

Will there be depressed children, stressing and crying and cutting themselves because nobody would believe when they say "It's too much"? Will people still be stuck in the circle of melancholy and nostalgy, held captured by the never-ending routine when the first thing they do in the morning is ask themselves " Is this worth it? Do I really have to go to work? Perhaps I should end this, maybe it'll be easier then?"

Will people still break under their masks that they hold with trembling hands, grasping the clay so hard that their nails break and their fingers bleed, just so their kids couldn't discern what's underneath it?

Will everything stay the same and nothing improve? Will there be a catastrophy and expunge you, the one writing this, the gorgeous stranger you met on the street on a cold winter evening five years ago? Will it also wipe out your elementary school teacher, wipe out the florist from who you bought that flower for your first love and a rose for your mother?

Will people change, mentally and physically evolve along with our brains? Will the names we have to learn by heart - Darwin, Watt, Dante, Boccaccio and Einstein become irrelevant comparing to the inventions that are yet to come? Will somebody prove they were wrong, will somebody speak badly of them? Will someone still adore Dante's Heaven and Hell as much as I do? Will people analyse poetry the way I do? Will anyone ever feel the way you do?
Will anyone ever make a decision like you did, will anyone look up to you?

Is there a reason to be stressed and depressed, when all of this won't last? Is there a point in searching for the meaning of life rather than picking a reason to live that satisfies you both mentally, emotionally and physically?

Will people have passion and hate and freedom of expression, will they be bold or will they become faded? Lost? Encouraged or enraged?

Well you'll never know.

And that's hard to grasp.

when a storm's expected
the whirling power of silence
takes over me
and I cannot do a single
thing, but watch;
observe
how the tornado gets
swiped off by
a heartbreak

I feel tingling in my chest
I feel like the big
nothing is smothering me
silent hands
going up, against
my neck
softly following the line
of life and death

the flowers turn into stone
and I am completely torn
apart

nothing
I could do
but simply stand

and watch

i had learnt that
a "today" has to be blurry,
filled with gray clouds, and painful,
so that your "tomorrow" can be bright;
happy, without worries,
full of hope and delight,
but
every day is "today"
and "tomorrow"
is always out of touch, out of reach,
painfully untouchable
because tomorrow is always
the next day, postponed,
as every joy turns into dark,
as every tomorrow becomes
a today.

am i really that bad?
punish me with all i deserve
all the sins i preserve
please, be mad
i've hurt you and
i am dizzy all the time
spill the content of this land
my galaxy intertwined mind

nothing is right
can't collect the strings of my mind

i am to do whatever you say
and i know i've been bad
but the world is so sad
incomparable to your eyes gray

i'm not myself any longer
i tried to be stronger
but a mere walker can't overwalk fate
when standing before hell's gate

blurry, the clouds are so blurry
i try to walk them but i keep falling
destiny's eyes keep rolling
Fortunae's flurry

i keep rushing into things
i keep falling into abeyance
i keep thinking of my old wings
i keep noticing your absence

my skin's not bruised enough
for you to forgive, is it?
my heart's not rough
with sadness it is lit

don't come near
but don't leave me
a single shed tear
isn't enough to see

so, please, punish me with all I deserve,
all the sins I preserve,
a mere walker can't over walk fate
when standing before hell's gate

somewhere in the woods
a wolf is singing his lonsome song
to the moon changing his moods
a love story, thousand of years long

i get closer as i listen
set off green balloons to the galaxy
filled with nothing but fallacies
a glimpse of hope alighten

is this a dream?
is it a nightmare?
because, i know it can seem
like the green balloons are
filled with faults and cries
but success is born from failed tries

so, will we ever bloom?
all i ever think of's my doom
because my soul is black,
because i can never go back.

yesterday, I felt my life
was fading away;
a piece of my soul
running away

yesterday, I
naturally, tried to catch it:
the glimpse of life
the sparkle that used to be in my eyes
joy that ran through my veins

yesterday, I
failed to catch life
yesterday, my
life ran away
as I stood and watched it.
in the end, I let it go away
because I saw how happy
it was
without me

yesterday, I
watched it play
and go away
to the faraway place, outer space
I was weak, yet strong
and for the last time
it turned around
and I saw Death
and Death saw me

yesterday, I
heard their laugh echoed
through my mind

yesterday,
until the rest of my days.