In my next life I am going to be a bird
not because I would fly
but because I wouldn't be human.

I wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone
or wonder,
or cry.
(To be honest I don’t know if birds cry – do they?)

I would not think too much
and act too little.

I would make my life simple
as simple as possible.

I would eat
drink
fly.
(I’d FLY a lot)
…and simply live for tomorrow.

I know I’d enjoy every second of it.

UNLESS…

**…unless he wants to become a bird in his next life as well!

Then I am *******.

They are strangers now, separated by their worlds and walls.
There is no chemistry, no spark, nothing special.
They are simply strangers, sharing a couch.

One is autumn, one is spring;
one likes talking, and the other? Listening.

If walls could talk, they’d weave a tale so tragic.

In the beginning, he was sun, and she was moon.
At the ending, she was running, but he was leaving.

In the beginning, there are many things.
There is music, and laughter, and broken strings.
They have cooperation, and commitment, and promises.
Her mom gives them glasses, his mom gives them dishes.
She has her charcoals, he has his guitar.

At the ending, close to the ending-
There is his guitar, her laughter, they’ve broken things.
And that is all that is left.

Promises and glasses, dishes and hearts.
A year of trying and losing is written on the walls;
the wallpaper- peeling, the curtains- ripping.

He clears his throat, she stills- hoping.
“I’m sorry,” she hears, and it’s okay.
“I’m sorry,” she hears, “that it’s ended this way.”

I’m sorry, she hears. I’m sorry, that it’s ended this way.
I’m sorry, she hears. That it’s ended this way.

“It’s ended this way?”
“I’m ending it this way.”

When I close my eyes to sleep at night,
I see you lying there,
alone in bed so far away,
it just doesn't seem quite fair.

If wishes worked like magic,
that's not what I would see.
For you would be much closer,
lying next to me.

Your head would be upon my chest,
your leg draped over mine.
Softly, you'd be sleeping,
and life would be just fine.

And as I drifted off to sleep,
your arms would hold me tight.
Together we would dream the truth,
of this and every night.

That this is how we're meant to be,
together, intertwined.
Just look at all the paths we took,
each other just to find.

i remember too many things
i should not,
things best left behind,
memories since best forgot.

i remember the things it seems,
things left in the wake,
of all my failed, unrealistic dreams,
all in all to forsake,
now I stand here alone without any schemes,
i now live in the lies i alone make.

i remember too many things,
and now i lay here in shame,
of neglected love and misfortune's slings.