Like a party with a dresscode
a lot of people acting all strange
and weird, not like they normally
would. With the consequence that
the people who stay who they really
are, get pointed out as
different.

Thank god, it's raining, I like the sound of it.
It's raining in my mind and in my soul,
There is nothing I can do to make it stop
I guess I'll just accept the fact, it will keep raining.

I can hide all my fears and tears, my loneliness
and all things I ever messed up in life. I cannot
even hear myself thinking with this rain, little drops
not dripping like leaves fall, but with impact, like bombs.

All of a sudden there is something at my window.
4 o' clock at night, sleeping difficulties keep me from
my dreams, dreams my conscience told me
I'll never understand.

When I take a look outside I notice something,
searching right next to the big difference, not finding
the actual one. It may have stopped raining here, but
somewhere else it still is. It's always raining somewhere.

I am sitting, alone, on a chair in a lonely room.
The walls are brown, the ground is grey.
Every time I hear something, I quickly try to
find, searching, where the sound came from.

The sound was nothing but a movement of
the building, changed, affected by the wind.
The sound returns more frequently as I make
my way, walking towards the door without a handle.

Suddenly I cannot hear it anymore, I'm sure it's there
So very sure, but I guess I am finally used to it.
My mind is at ease and everything seems better than before.

I tried ramming, knocking, bashing even beating and
pounding but this door just will not budge. It is not
that I am too weak, deep inside, I just don't want to leave.

Waiting, outside, for something big to happen.
My thoughts of what might come are blooming
like myrtle does this time of year. They are tappin'
my mind from the inside, all my time consuming.

Waiting, inside, in my bed, rethinking most of
my thoughts, hoping they'll come true, wishing
they will become real. If they do I will, my love,
finally be able to stop my imperishable fishing.

I should commence any form of action, anything
should do. Because doing nothing is nothing I
would do, I think, whilst getting out of my bitter bed.

Maybe I could speak or laugh or squeak or sing
for her. Filled with shame, perhaps therefore I'll die,
hence I have only got yellow courage in my head.

How I am embraced, mesmerized by simple beauty,
taking away everything that separates them from us,
and still,
noticing the differences.

Love is when you start wearing clothes more often
because she said they looked good on you.

It's when you wash your hair with the same
shampoo everyday, she said it smelled good

When you leave a seat open, next to you,
you know, just in case.

It's never the case.

I'd rather keep losing the battles for love
Than never be able to love at all.

I like to be the dreamer, gathering hope
from a certain distance, it soothes me

It suits me.

He died today
years ago
I think I would
not have liked him

Just my own sense
of jealousy, wanting
some of his talent

People of his time
Are not just people
They shaped this world

just like they used to
shape fragile statues
of marble, letters of
simplicity, filled with so
much significance