The sound of screeching train brakes.
Metal over metal, while those raindrops smash into the window
slowly falling down.
A pink sky burns away the streetlights on a road so desolate,
And no camera in my backpack.
Its the scent of standing on a roof and hearing how the wind whispers through that lonely tree that grows on top of it.
With a view far beyond the city limits.
The sweet taste of tiramisu ice cream and how she curls her lips.
Its that rusty soda can that hides for ages in the dirt.
And it takes ages to make food above a fire, yet a second to lose a friend.
Watching how the moon transforms.
Memories, those moments we take with us on our path.
Running through subway tunnels,
finding peace down under only to return back into my mess.
I remember how we used to walk those tracks for miles laughing/cursing life.
Smoking herbs on top of buildings, hearing gunshots in the streets.
Climbing walls, holes in my hands.
blood mixed with alcohol, at times my only friends.
How that glass smashed through my arm leaving me with stitches and those days I lost my hope.
Those floors and beds in places we claimed to be our own.
He told me "keep on walking" and I wonder is he still alive?
Memories, those moments we take with us on our path.
That new years eve we left eachother cursing after a smashed bottle of *****.
We used to drop freestyles in the park and drink away the night.
It still hurts me that you died and left me here behind.
You put a mirror up in front of my face, and showed me my own end.
I learned alot from your mistakes and I hope you have your peace now.
You saw angels in the streets, and now I see them too.
At times not only angels, black demon dogs appearing from the myst.
Chasing us like crazy and when lost, they came again the next day.
Some things I cant explain.
Memories, those moments we take with us on our path.
As I sit here now, broke, I look back upon my life.
Thankful for the madness and the lessons I have learned.
I wish for something different, yet some things do not depend on me.
No clear path to walk like usual, hope that this works out.
I will always have myself, my camera my memories and dreams.
The road, the tracks, the rusted soda cans. Harbours full with ships.
The rain, the moon, and those cities full with life.
One year left to freeze my time, crossroads without end.
And in the end, the laughter and the tears are always worth it.
Dreams, those moments that drag us through our past.
Copyright Nil P. About the good old times at the wrong side.