If the rain could weave your touch into mine,
I'd let it drench me, time after time.
Perhaps in a place where clocks don't turn,
You’d find me waiting, a love unlearned.

I stood in the hallway,
the familiar scent of jasmine hanging heavy—
my mother’s perfume.

I called her name,
but it wasn’t the voice of my mother
that answered.

It was mine—
but younger.

I turned the corner,
and there she was—
sitting at the kitchen table,
but her eyes…
they weren’t hers anymore.

"I’ve waited for you,"
she whispered,
and the room went cold.

I reached for her,
but my fingers sank into her skin—
soft, pliable,
like wax—
too easy.

And I realized too late—
she wasn’t waiting for me.
She was pulling me in.

Then I felt it—
a slow, unbearable pressure in my chest.
I couldn’t breathe.

"You’ll never leave me again."

Since the day they brought me here,
With their hands,
They placed upon my back
The weight of living.

And upon my forehead,
With their cursed dreams,
Touched the fairies
Of despair.

In every second of my life,
I have felt
These sorrow-laden whispers.

I owe you,
My love,
Every bright day
I have ever lived.

All my feelings,
Grateful to you,
Line up at your door,
Waiting for their farewell.

Forgive me,
My love,
For I am cursed
With the burden of thought,
And no remedy, no cure
Can soothe—
Neither my love for vanishing
Nor the ache of your absence.

Tar has sealed me—
tight, unyielding.
Step by step, I will bleed,
and every drop that falls
will pave new roads
of sorrow.

A man lives
through his sorrow,
and a man must live
with himself.
To live with oneself—
a weight.
To be human—
a curse.

Always, a direction to follow,
always, a journey.

I just want it to end,
everything,
always.
I want time to stop.
I grow old dreaming
of not being.

Every nerve in my body,
every fragment,
every hatred,
the dead-end path I walk—
let it all end.

Let it never have been.
I want nothing.

Maybe,
I just love you
To
     warm
                myself
On the coldest days.

In the "loneliness",
I find connection.
In the "boredom",
I find fulfillment.
In the "silence",
I find serenity.

Why aren't you at peace?