Even as a child
my happyness
has been wired with fear.
When I laughed too hard at day
I had nightmares at night.

Is that the way we are taught to be?
When the day is bright
one should keep an eye opened for
the dark night yet to come.
And only speak of whishes
in murmur and undertone.

-A tradition passed on from father to son-
and even more subtly from a mother
to the woman that little girls is yet to become.
Are we afraid to be too happy?

Am I scared to breathe in full lungs?
I am quite sure fear is my predominant gene
and happyness is so illusive and intangible
that sometimes I doubit its even real
- but I want to scream out loud for once:
I am scared but I am thrilled to be here.

K.E

Like a river I flow irrepressibly
but backwards
just to keep you near.

You say you're stronger than anyone,
but I am your weakness, I know.
You say you are afraid of nothing
but than a simple bee scares you away.
And you say you couldn't hurt me.
You say.
You say.
You say.
You show me all your affection
and I belive in you,
It's your words that I doubt in.

I am afraid you are kneeling too low
in your black hole.
I am afraid if I come too close
it will **** me in.

»Your pain would **** me« I heard you say.

I love you,
naked,
with no shame
covering you

I love you,
all mine
I love you,
stubborn
I love you weak
I love you kind.

Like others,
he wakes up every morning
and gets out of bed.
...The light likes his face,
always looking good
with his cheekbones, his straingt nose
and his thick lashes.

Nature has been generous to him.
He's always been faster than others
and stronger than others
... but somehow the air seems
heavier on his sholders anyway.

The golden light grazing him
and the gentle breeze once
messing his curls
- he doesn't seem to notice them!

He's covert in a cloud of smoke
entoxinating his lungs
becaouse all the blessings
nature gave him at birth
- his luck took them away.

My friend and I
are not alike.
She's sunny blonde
and I'm dark brown
- but we did get away
with the same ID
that one time.

She's the kind of person
that gets really high
or extreamly low
and I, ussually
go the middle way.

She's vibrant but
she often says
I'm special, though.

When in highschool "funny"
Youtube videos were the hit
that wasn't us.
We has laughs
and talks
and walks of our own.

I might go places and
she  might live somewhere far
like Australia or the USA
but I have good memory
and she writes letters
so I know we'll be alright.

My friend and I
are  kind of grown-ups
and my mind is now a blur
but if there's one thing
I'm sure of
- I'm sure of her!

I wanted to write about confidence
Not the kind that makes
a girl pout her lips
and hide her spark away.

Not the kind that makes
a woman look presumptuous,
even though she feels like
a little girl inside.

I wanted to write about
real confidence

The kind of inner beauty that
simply shines through.
The type of confidence
that smiles at strangers
and speaks her mind.

I wanted to write
about the type of walk
that isnt afraid of
little flirtig
and the firm step
that knows what she deserves
and what she wants.

I wanted to capture confidence
to unravel it
and put it into a formula
but how can I do this
if I still feel insecure most of the time?

They are tearing away my home
removing one piece at time.
In few days
some other people
will make a life of their own
in the place i still call my home.

And I will have to continue my life elsewhere...

Here I am again
less confussed
and older
but in this new place
trying to make it
my own.

Would I rather be
with someone that feels
cozy and warm,

or someone that
feel like thrill
and fire
and smells like
mint and waterfalls.

I wonder why untried things have a certain charm.

Wouldnt it be nice
to have a reallity
where all the people
close to my heart
would be close to my body?

I wouldnt have to choose
a country becaouse
each one I'd lived in
has a significant part of my heart

I imagine it would be nice
feeling at home
and not always feeling like
there is a piece missing out.

Becaouse right now, I feel homesick even at home.

I'm sick of being
the stranger,
the daughter,
the neighbour,
the friend,
the sinner or
the saint.

This time I wanna be a lover

I tried to love you,
profondly,
with all my heart.
You deserve a home
and a warm hug.

Do not mistaken,
I want a home for you;
not just a house.
The one thing you've long lost
and longed for ever sice.

I'm sorry...
I couldn't fall inlove with you
fiercely
head over heals
But I still love you
with all my heart.

We are all clay,
formless and
smooth.

Life sculps us
with punches
and grips
and floods.

Life walks all over us
until we turn
rough,
cracked
and dry.

Waht do you call projections of people?
You know,
the ones we create in our head
the ones we keep so close
we feel like we know them
we feel like we own them.

But thats all they are,
projections.
The real you is walking around flesh and blood.
The real you is breathing a different air.

I'd  trade my projection for the
real you anytime.

I guess even in pairs,
even in love,
applies the rule
every men on his own!

I dont blame you
for being too far
since I did nothing
to keep you near.

I dont blame you
for not listening
since words unspoken
you simply can not hear

I dont blame you
for that  smile we share,
for that kiss
and that hushed glare

But if you too felt it
but if you too simply did not dare
I´ll blame you
for every burden I bare.

Something amazing was between us there.

Nepričakovan večer
nenadna bližina
hiter poljub in
dolga tišina
ter pogled vprt v tla.

You shirt is getting to tight
I've been wearing it for three years now
It was never the perfect fit
but it has always been confortable and warm.

Your shirt is becoming too itchy lately
Lately your shirt is becoming too tight
I've been wearing it for too long now.

It still belongs to me
It stil gives me warmth
But it doesn't feel like home anymore
It doesn't feel mine.