loving you
was like having heart burn
on the wrong side of my chest
and doing my best to pretend
that still I felt nothing
in all of the places where
you once touched me

neck
collarbone
the backside of my knees

you destroyed me from the inside out
with such delicacy
that at times
I convinced myself it wasn't even
happening

loving you was a disease
that I wish
I could remember having

but now
I simply
feel
nothing

Teach me to
swim
in the
sound-waves
of your voice.

I wish I could fly

Up to the sky

So that when I cry

My tears and my pain

Will blend with the rain

Then no one will know

I’m dying so slow

I’ll lie on a cloud

And fade away.

One monotonous day is followed
by another monotonous, identical day. The same
things will happen, they will happen again --
the same moments find us and leave us.

A month passes and ushers in another month.
One easily guesses the coming events;
they are the boring ones of yesterday.
And the morrow ends up not resembling a morrow anymore.

Books are reliable folk,
They'll remain in your hand as you have a ****.

The pages don't mind markings,
The bindings are okay with carvings,

The letters will always remain,
Even if, your holy grail is left out in the rain.

Their secret meaning can be read
in the solitary of your head.

Or your favourite piece, shout aloud!
Yell it to a crowd.

Weep as your character's love departs,
Flick through it with a careless heart.

Keep it in your back pack,
Or glare at it on your iPad.

Your trusty friend 'book'
Is always willing for you to prise it open,
and take a long, hard look.

I could stay up like I always do
Browse the web
Read or write a poem or two
Continue with the cycle:
Long for meaning,
Get eaten by pain,
Fail to sleep,
Barely get through work,
Repeat
But tonight, instead,
I'll just go to bed