tell me:
how are beliefs helping
when they cause persecution
screaming injustice while performing acts of hate?

tell me:
how does one differ
folly for a questionable book
or the innermost desire to rule others?

tell me:
how can one say
religions are the foundations of earth
when morality is at a point of contempt?

tell me:
how could one say
one believes in a god
when one ignores humanity?

where is the decency?
what is peace in a tyranny of hate?
some day we'll realize a little too late...

tonight i am plagued
with self doubt
and anxiety

i want to exist
quietly
gently
for you

with you

but love's become
an impossibility

life's become
an impossibility

because of me.

because of me.

I pretend to know love
when I fly blind each time I fall

I pretend to know you
when all I do is make you blue
as you do me too.

Worst of all;
I pretend to know myself
when I get lost in my own thoughts
and lie that I am fine each time I am nervous.

you weren't wrong.
i'll be frank; you were difficult to love
you were a slow, lento song
a nimble, agile, little dove

i'll be frank; you were the sun in May
when darkness was oppressed
when warmth felt depressing
and love choked itself, dying

you weren't wrong.
you held me at gunpoint and cried
you pushed me an inch closer to the void
you called my name and chose to hide

but i held on,
longing for December rain once more
longing to be human once more
longing for you, and you alone

but you were long gone
a day late, a dollar short, a metre shy
you are glory days,
golden age

you were.

i hope someday you'll remember:
the picture you took with your eyes
of a lovely, quiet, peaceful sunset
me sitting next to you, telling you:
"i will never forget this point in time."

i will always remember:
the picture i took with my eyes
of a gentle, warm, beautiful smile
of the March weather, ever so kind
"i hope we'll end up being happy."

i remember the day still.
but i don't know what i feel
like when you're ill
are you something my mind should ****?

like the weather in January
nothing certain about our love
like a misty morning in Jakarta
like a switch to turn it on and off.

oh, these melancholic nights.

in truth:
i am terribly afraid of being joyful
and gay when i am with you

because they say the higher you climb
the harder you fall

and i have been feeling mighty tall
since the first time you called.

tonight I am in favor of silence
of the blue skies only belonging to some
of the pretty stars only shining for a few

tonight I am in favor of silence
of the small house with wooden fence
the place where the small river bends

tonight I am in favor of silence
of the deafening sound of sirens
to fall apart with no defiance

for tonight you are in favor of a distant place
no, you have disappeared without a trace

tonight I am in favor of silence
for at least I can hide in it.

if we never spoke to each other again
would you hold me one last time?

would you remember me in your darkest nights, when you just cannot shut your eyes, when your thoughts are black and blue?

would you think of me when you board the plane for your first flight, wearing your sweet uniform, greeting the weary passengers?

if we never spoke to each other again
would you at least tell me one last time that you loved me at times? or perhaps you never did feel anything?

why won't you say something?
why?

loving you
has made me think
"should love
be this difficult?"

My youth is laden with
Unanswered prayers
Cold and nervous love
Colourless days

Half of the time
I try to rhyme
But I lost the lines
I lost all that's fine

My youth is laden with
Heaviness at heart
Loneliness at soul
Anxiety at being

I'm tired of being
What am I fearing?

you told me something's off
what is it? i asked
(you're not him) you wanted to say

i'm sorry i'm not him.

There's no title.
No beginning.
No, there's no ending as well.
These are the parts
In which we all
Are caught up.

In which we all
Spend our days:
Wondering,
Wandering.
Lost,
Found.
But never at the ending.

We are common in these parts.
Where the sugar-coated lie
Sometimes break
And we can see:

We are all caught in this whirlwind of commonness. Of the lonely parts.

now,
my whole existence
doesn't depend
on you

but
it's sure as hell
a whole lot nicer
with you