Bethinking

The blossom

The flourish

Hitherto the withering

One backward glance

Time ravages beauty

~

i believe that through our dreams
we can re-write moments
once lost to time.
not as in, to alter what has already come
but merely to glimpse back;
as to what may have been.

reliving the same sequence of events
trying to find, how each moment
played out best.
i dream of holding you again.
longer, closer;
each breath more synchronised
than the last.

every night i fall in love with you
all over again in my mind
yet, we always end up back;
stuck, in the same place
at the exact same time.

with you, taking my hands in yours
your head pressed against mine;
a gentle mumble
pushed across your lips
you ask;
“how could you forget me?”
and then, like from a hellish nightmare
i awaken once more.

i don’t know if loving someone
could be more tragically poetic;
perhaps, the greatest trick
the devil ever pulled
was crossing our paths.

you asked me;
“how could i forget you?”
i can’t.
i never have.
every single night
i find you in my head;
just to speak to your ghost,
too utter sweet nothings in your ear
and to be hopelessly lost
utterly and completely entranced
in your gaze once again.

~

already running in circles,
still care about drawing lines.

Half divine, half monster,
As slow as the seasons but
As fast as raging thunder.
We swim in the air and
Look suspiciously at the world
Knowing for a fact that
There is something hidden from our eyes.
Like babies we cry and
Like gods we are worshipped by ourselves.
Like beasts we eat and we hunt
And like angels we dance and we sing.
We play with breath
And we play with fire
Yet there is this burning desire
To breathe air that is truly meant for us,
Because we live in a suffocating ballon
That floats in time and will soon pop!

Have we made a mistake in being here?

All of our devices warp reality
Yet my imagination is the only thing that is free.
We try fighting our chains
Force change
And build a heaven on Earth once again
But the beast cris
And years for rain
And shelter
From the raging storm.

I'm good enough,
I don't care what you say,
I'm proud of what,
I accomplished today.

I tried my best,
which makes me feel good,
I did much better,
than I thought I could.

Why do you criticize
and make me feel small?
Does it feel better,
when I stumble and fall?

Well, I'm here to tell you,
that I wont let your words hurt.
Because when I fall,
I'll just pick myself up from the dirt.