I feel her grip fading, slowly is
she leaving, hopping off the ice.
She says it didn't go very well,
but I couldn't say.
Speechless,
because she was so pretty,
impressed,
because she was so talented,
touched,
because she looked divine.
It hurts to think about it,
to accept she'll never be mine.

Time will pass and she'll forget,
we'll drift apart like we never met,
to me it's more than sight,
I have dared to love her with all my might
and cried because it didn't work.

I don't know what to change this time,
choice, my appearance, my act,
my voice, my talks, my jokes or walks.
What did I do wrong, this time.

I understand you now, I won't bother
you any
more.

Cookies in the oven, grass mowed, petrol, permanent markers
her hair.

Flowers, lavender and roses, wet dogs, even the barkers,
her hair.

Dinner ready, bacon barbecue, onions sizzling, fresh soup
her hair.

My sweat, my tears,
her hair, my fears,
morning dew, honey,
misty sunrise
hers.

The kind of miraculous movies that are not made
into videogames. It's like watching, surrounded
by darkness and seats, seated by people who laid
their first word around the time you did, sounded

not as perfect as yours, though they carefully tried.
Many times have I tried too but failed and cried.
A lot of people cry like that, surrounded yet not
noticed. They wish they didn't but then a lot

could go wrong. I have to help her, have to make
her see how confident she could be, not lied, she
is a hidden gem and more, so worthy, so valuable
for some and me but I can only look and notice

silently how she might blossom like the wallflower
she really is. Even if she does not I can only stand
and behold, like she does. Appearing strong, turning out
to be weak.

It's warm here, not just hot, burning,
I think, my stomache feels, turning.
How do I get out, where,
why, does no one else care?

My head is glowing, fingers dripping
sweat. My intestines are tripping
over all and themselves.
Deeper and deeper, as if this fire
delves a way inside my body,
spreading like disease, like virus,
like epidemic forces
combining us to fight.

These short moments brought back sight
to those who lost it, those scared at night.
But it will pass soon enough.

I have eaten all your flesh,
left with only fat and bone,
forced to dethrone,
I long to refresh.

You deserve your eyes less red,
a young gentleman to wed.
I cannot give solutions, at least
not intended ones.

I want your eyes to dry, lie
with you as we sleep, as we seep
away.

You trust my every word, involuntarily,
even though you have more to say.

As we stare once more, at last, for one last time,
we know,
when grateful, our eyes are most sublime.

I'm an island, in a lake in a big
city. The water around me is deep
and foggy, the hills I carry, steep
but soft, even sinkier, dig
your own way out.

Or in,
making the mill spin,
caught a swimming trout.
With bare hands I touched
With bare hands I clutched

I was told to bend
not break.
I want to spend
more time to make

this work.

Inhabit my world,
enjoy my fruits and trees and nature
enjoy me, live me,
hair, uncurled, major
mistakes, set straight, be,
dare to be,
loved.

I could have been an actor
with intentions to hit everyone
by storm, then I would have been
forced to be healthy and fit

for I lack discipline to be like
that on my own.

But then what is my main factor?
Would I be struggling with myself
Who would I be if I had so many roles to play
I guess in theory I'd be a pretty good one
but when it comes to dealing with being
surrounded like a little boy in a room
full of mousquitoes. The tension I could never bare

I could have been so much
for I lack discipline to do such
on my own

The words come out wrong,
wishing seconds could be hours
still not enough
you must think I'm weird

I want to stop myself from getting hurt
all the time
all day
but I can't

Because you're so pretty, pretty unreachable
There's always another guy
I want to be that guy and not
Cause everyone hates that guy.

But you don't
You love him
why don't you love me?

It's like you don't even try
It has always been my
intended action
failed
nailed on the spot

useless piece of uselesness
being useless and stuff
I have had enough
I want to leave daytime.
Step out, night into we go
studying, front row, below
average, passed, gone, missing
forever.

Why can't I accept it's gone.
Maybe it isn't?
that's what I'm talking about.
She must think I'm weird.

people don't like weird people
they only like people who turn out to be weird.
Daytime offers dresscodes
dresscodes nighttime loathes.

I judge but I hate being judged
I hate but I hate being hated.
I love but I don't see how one could love me.
If she doesn't, why care for anyone else
she doesn't
what matters doesn't
doesn't that hurt?


Why
day
why
may
I not
be loved
beloved
day, why?

Though it is not 'ed, night brings light
it might not be too bright
but it's better than nothing.
I wish I was nothing.
I wouldn't have to worry
I worry a lot

I'm loved by those who I don't like
and love the ones that don't like me
Who is wrong here?
CAN SOMEONE PLEASE TEACH ME HOW TO NOT THINK ABOUT SOMEone eVERY SINGLE SECOND OF the day.

time, she is unreachable
and way too attractive,
loved in general
which shows you just enough to be of interest
to keep me going

yet not enough to let the night keep glowing.


If daytime is so bad, why not sta

I like to compare my life to a house.
Right now they're still building it, it's
still just a house. This year they added
windows and a second floor. I hope one day
it will be loved and be a home.

It is not easy to build a house,
hours and hours of planning, then
working, placing, making, breaking and repairing.
Some people already came by to see if it's for sale.

They checked every room and every planned one.
But this house is not randomly being placed
I just don't know who asked for it to be built.

A year has passed and you don't know.
I admit to the crime of too subtle action
almost forced to go,
never sure,
you enigmatic mystery,
I could never tell what I was meant to see.  

What you think of me is
still a question, I feel its automatic
journey is close to its end, I cannot pause,
cause it never does, not for me.

I guess we are the same but I never came to affirmation.
I end it right here, you had me for a year
and never shifted gear, next levels
never reached. Some doors breached

I'm off to bed. Could I never return please?
Tomorrow is always a disaster, so tell her today.
Today was two days ago.
I am too late.

Doubting about giving up, then she's not the one.
Giving up is for cowards, for guys like me, two days ago.
regret is a horrible state.
Please never make me experience it again, I preach.
I wish you made me feel careless and casual, then it would have worked.

But your sparkling eyes make me insecure,
your cheeky cheeks unkissed and pure,
your perfect shapes and dazzling hair,
your blinding stare, everything around me
vaguely disappears,

an empty feeling sears
through the image that I had
I was just a helpless lad, fallen down, reaching up to you.
But I did not dare to grab your hand for it was too
soft and smooth and perfect for my not so bright ideas.

Now drop me and never lend me that hand again
I will always try to grab it, immobilized by your smile.
addicted, not in love, hooked, not shared, affected and absorbed but not attracted.
attraction has 2 ways, of one I am not sure.
Abruptly looking the other way, my only cure
for how you agonize my being.


I am still thinking about not giving up, so maybe
she could still be
one
just not
the...

I cannot understand myself
why did I not say
what I wanted every single day
for us, it may, but hey, this way,
I did not have to lay
myself on the line,
a risk avoided same goes for love
nothing else to painfully think of
nothing ever broke me like
you did.

My approach was the worst in human history
from afar they'll come and hear his story
of failure and demise, for a month or two
he'll be the talk of school and then it ends.

Either end it or start it, but not this phase of inbetweeness
it's powerful and useless at the same time.

One whole year, you shaped me, reformed, refurbished,
you were my goal, unreached. I need more time, more coal
to keep this ancient bunch of chances from not living forth. To north
instead of south, your words in my mouth, my
songs sang by birds and rippling creeks,
banished and expelled from peaks,
vanished thoughts, so sure they were,
together with the derivative motions they withheld

I spelled your name a thousand times
drew it in my books next to some rhymes
made it pretty to fit your being, even
though I never succeeded to pass breakeven.

You reek of sweaty tenderness
the kind with a soft and gentle touch
grabbing on to my nose pulling me up real
close much
like those
drips sliding
never letting go
until
they

drop


The harsh colliding of such
small and delicate droplets gives my rivers soothing shivers
as the so called divergent waves bounce
back and forth
against the edges of each cliff around high and steep

Time after time
these drops
scared to leap
do

enjoy

the


fall


In the end, they're careless of it all.

The best things happen after autistically
planning, but doing something else, as
long as it keeps handing me sunlight and
some feet to walk, I'll keep walking.

It has always been my dream, but, secretly,
shamefully, I will never dare, losing things
dear to me and ideals. I walk across
a waterway and find my luck in the sudden

movements of two ducks, refreshing in that
very water. Neighbours working, greeting strangers,
children disobeying their mothers.
And old man on the bus comments, I sit
I read, look up, search for the right words and
stop reading.

Quentin felt infinite, so I wanted to let that feeling last.

It wouldn't work,
it'd be a lie
to be together,
to even try.