we shape our sorrow
according to what we read
in the newspapers
saying what we think
thinking what we mean
lazy in the sunset
tired in the dark
flying in the streets
falling in the sky
upside down
dawn of light
caresses the face
it drew on the pallets
of the painters it threw
out into the streets
because now we want something else
something they can't give us
for nothing is the same
as it used to be
right or wrong
we don't know anymore
we can't
so stop the world
stop the planet spinning
let us go back
back to the beginning
when it all started
and it may start again
or it may not
who knows

in the morning
faces blurry faces
crossing my way
they sleep on the sidewalks
falling heavily from the skies
smiling at the ones they hate
flowers in their hair
and thorns in their hearts
will never let them go
but they try anyway
although they know it's hopeless
trying to be something they're not
even though it hurts
them and those around them
they keep on
because they have to
they have nothing else to do
nothing else to hope for
stories their stories
that will never be read
and songs of their lives
which we forgot as fast
as the wind blows
around the faces
the blurry faces
that cross my way
in the morning
after a hot cup of coffee
that we drink to stay awake
in the lives that bore us
because we don't know anything else
not that we didn't try to know
we did

you'd think i'd know better
than to stumble under his gaze
but my feet don't listen
my heart is so
so impatient
my fingers crave the touch
of his soft brown curls

you'd think i'd know better
than to stare when he walks past
my mother taught me better
but she didn't teach me
how to tame the curiosity
of my hungry mind

you'd think i'd know better
than to fall for the boy
who doesn't stumble
who doesn't stare
who knows better
than to fall for someone like me

I've never been good at
Being touched.

Though the fingers
Of endless suitors
Have traced incomparable
Lines of affection,
They all stroke
The same wounds.

New hands feel like
Recycled lullabies,
Humming promises
Of a new melody,
Singing a remedy for
My impassivity.

Whether words fall
Passionate or
Fearful,
Endearment lines my lips
With an expiration
Long enough to convince me,
But short enough to leave me.

Reminding me:
The disintegration of
Indifference
Remains
My prerequisite
For destruction.

So before you
Touch me with
Promises of a new
Orchestration,
I'm already marking the
Days until you leave.

Because my skin
Is tired of
Intruders hidden
Behind momentary
Infatuation.

So keep your hands to yourself.

One side, two sides
where should I go?
I ask my friends
but how can they know
where one side starts and the other ends

One side, two sides
where should I stand?
I ask my friends
but they fail to understand
the meaning that my message sends

One side, two sides
what should I do?
I ask my friends
but they have problems, too
so I'll pray until the problem mends

"A one-way ticket to space, please."

"These coins can’t get you anywhere"

I poured my silver lined heart
on the desk

"Ma’am this is all I have"

“I am afraid that is not enough"

I plucked my crystal tears
drew the rubies in my veins

I picked out my pearly eyes
they rolled like silk into her hands

"Enjoy your trip"



But

As I stood on the observation deck

Before the inky canvas
freckled with glistening stars

I realised

I had no

Eyes to see
hearts to please

Not even a tear to weep

Just a vessel
With a metaphoric soul

And a one-way ticket to space.

I met Death today
she shook my hand in a polite manner
then allowed me to adjust to the new
overwhelming reality
as if she knew it would take a while
we bathed in silence;
the consternated and the experienced
little by little getting used to each other's
presence, now and forever

but Death has done this before