I hope you'll write me letters
from the land
where poetry always dances in front of your eyes
and music never dies.

You left without any notice
no word goodbye
you flew in a second
when I thought you were feeling alive.

You left me with the memories
of some drunk nights
when we were stupid and young
and didn't know
that life is just a dream
of the everlasting death.

Now I am sitting next to your forever bed
feeling the cold ground
and dreaming
about one more day
some last words
a kiss on the forehead
your bright eyes
shining upon mine.

and I wish
you could hear me as I whisper amongst tears  

"I hope you'll write me letters..."

restless every day
i fear the light,
i fear their faces
my heart beating fast at night
won't let me calm my brain.

i will hide in a cocoon
letting the waves of my mind
crush against every thought
driving me insane
never becoming a butterfly
never flying in the light
or i will build a tree house
and hide in there
until I die
or
until You find me.

there are so many words i could write you
but my mouth is locked again
my heart can't read anymore
wish i could tell you how i'd rebuild
the aurelian walls around you,
the king,
but i know my hands are useless now
and my mind has been washed away
by the same sea
you were trying to teach me
how to swim in.

and the beggars on the streets
they ask me for pennies
"from your kindness"
they say
but my cold eyes can't have it anymore.

my decisions are dark
i make mistakes
when i decide to whom i should give my soul,
when i decide what i should ****
when i forget everything i've learnt.

the music i used to love
the metaphors
they don't make sense to me anymore
not because i don't hear them
but because today
i've chosen to see and hear the reality.

sad-eyed lady i will be for some more
but i'll set you free from seeing the sadness
the pain
i wish i could love you
the way seagulls love to rest on the sand
the way children love their paper planes
i wish i could be
the angel you see
but i know
i am just a human being
stepping on souls.

A war wages between your head and your body.
You wake up next to your anxiety,
Coating you in a bubble between rationality and fear.
Evil holds your hand every day,
You never noticed him until you were ten years old and they told you about war.
He was the lieutenant.
You never wanted to know him but you found yourself at thirteen,
Looking him in the eye when the kids at school called you names.
Now he walks with you everyday and waves to all the kids he knows.
Evil is the pressure of depression,
The mania of schizophrenia,
The animal that is anorexia.
You hold all of the goodness inside of you.
And all of the evils too.