Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
My transition is like a flower,
it grows and blossoms,
blooms in its own way, with its own colors,
My transition is like a canvas,
I design and paint it according to my ideas,
a painting so unique and wild,
My transition is like an empty book,
I fill the pages with my thoughts and feelings,
a book that shows how much I have achieved
My transition is a wonderful process, a unique journey without a destination.
I swear I'm trying,
but can I try again,
I could use a rewind,
like the few times before,
it is same view,
every time,
being stuck here,
I hate change,
yet I wish to change,
I swear I´m going to try
#i
can't wake up,
it´s not a dream,
trying to escape it,
with no way out,
just dissociating,
disconnecting from the world,
the feelings,
the thoughts,
from everything,
entering the void,
a simple retreat,
only I am there,
a time out
Here I am a stranger,
in a city,
where everyone,
is a stranger.
the lights of the cars, tram, subways
merging into a straight light,
people always on the move,
Part of the city wakes up
the other go to sleep,
time does not rest here
a lost soul
always on the move
without a destination
being nowhere and everywhere
Longing for change
also for consistency
a soul ready for change
ready to move to a new city
Some see the beautiful beach, the warming sand, the sparkling ocean,
Other only see the sunburns, the unbearable heat,
Some wait that the flowers are blooming,
Other just wait them to wither,
some see the loveliness in the sun,
Others see inner peace in the silent night,
Every view on the world is unique,
We all have a unique view of the world. No two are the same.
Next page