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persefona Feb 2015
dim
animals are dancing, curls jumping and soaking in sweat. run with me over these few meters, toss in some flamed matches, blows of wind, ah and oh. watch the shadows of sliver silver bodies.
persefona Feb 2015
we ate boiled vegetables for breakfast. there was no sunlight and my feet were so cold. that night i brought two tooth brushes, i was so bemused in the morning that i left both the blue and the orange one.
When seeing you again, I felt composed and you were beguiling.
i ll come back to your place again, i forgot the orange toothbrush.
persefona Feb 2015
cans filled with air they sell
in that yellow place,
where when I wake up
you'll have your lunch\
and i will scratch my forehead several times
so i might get deep enough and understand why I can barely
imagine your presences, and the last time tongues intermingled and fingers danced was a whole moon away.
persefona Feb 2015
Simon felt a strong loathing for his words each time he remembered what he had said. In those moments of pure silence while the engine of his brain was fully recollecting all of those thoughts and words which he had said in an encounter before, he not only loathed the words but himself as well.
Meeting friends for Simon became odd moments in which he would take a glimpse of all that he wasn’t and all that he thought he was. Existence became a blur of negative thoughts, self-destruction and commiseration for self.
Although individualism in Simon had always been a growing bloom, it is bizarre how it seemed that all of it was buried by simple fears, which had let their clever roots. It had seemed as if, if possible at all, Simon was going through a stage of puberty all over again. He was too old for luxury of puberty as an excuse.
Chances and circumstances aligned to form a path, which had transformed this once strong-minded person into a pondering imbecile whose behaviour resembled of the one of a chameleon. He became aware of qualities in other people, which he thought he could acquire. Interestingly, many of these were characteristics, which were highly accepted by society or on the other hand were not in a traditional sense and seemed to be very popular.
It is obvious that Simon has no idea of who he is and what he does. Words from his mouth were not parallel with his reality. He spoke of plenty of things and ideas, however it started to sound as if he had memorised a text for which he thought was a golden mean of where he was in those moments.
Daily obsessions became related with his physical appearance, his impressions on others and nervous chaos in which he was living. Reflection on the other side was disappointing to him…
He needed to think, gather some constructive thoughts and think about all this. After all he was clever in a way. There had to be a way in which self-confidence could be built again.
Sometimes he felt as if he was to be in a play. As if his real life characteristics were to be transmitted into one of the characters. Who would he be? What would that person be like? Unfortunately he wasn’t able to answer. There was doubt with every depiction, all of it was uncertain to him.
Was he running away from who he really was, in order to built himself into someone he wants to be? This could easily turn into a vicious circle, of changing personalities often.
In order to come closer to understanding who Simon was, or who he seemed to be, it is vital to understand that at this moment Simon wasn’t able to recognise love at any form anymore. Fears and ideas of conspire multiplied like microscopic cells, it was a matter of seconds. The lightness of love, which so alluringly enriched his days as if each day was a life of its own, put in the most blunt way was eaten away.
persefona Feb 2015
A zeppelin perches in my gut.
heavy air balloon bubbles up at the top
it is at its stop.
numbing.

the bottom atrium holds rushing footsteps- stubbornly colliding.
and before my closed eyes in the blackness of the mind-winded by the whitest of frost-white flower flash cards deal and conceal the emptiness of snip off eyes.
stinking flies lonely in their lives, barraged by their sticky snaggy wings
they draw sharp daggers, pinning sorrow on to my breath.
my mouth thirsty for salty blue water lies
hungry for the breath of another kind-
shadows of tuberoses on hot mornings
pipe dreams and pies in the sky
persefona Feb 2015
brat i sestra

brat: cao

sestra: cao

brat: gde je tata?

sestra: u sobi.

brat: sta radi?

sestra: ma odkud znam, pusi.

brat pravi sendvice. pet sendvica. mleko i keks. malo cipsa sa strane.

brat ne zna nista. sestra zna po nesto.

brat se obraca psu: pa gde si ti bio ceo dan?jeli malisanu mali, milice jedna, jel si gladan? a sta si radio? hoces napolje? jao pa vidi te sapice, smrdo jedan.

ne izvodi psa.
brat jede. cuti.

brat ide na spavanje, vec je jako kasno. opranih zuba.

sestra vec spava. brat otvara vrata sestrine sobe naglo, namerno ili mozda slucajno ali ne i prvi put. gleda u mrak i osluskuje sestrino mumlanje i cangrizanje. cuti. zatvara vrata i odlazi u svoj mrak, prekoputa.

jutro je.
brat: cao

sestra: cao

brat: gde je tata?
persefona Feb 2015
mila sedi na wc solji. prebira dlacice po brezuljku. nekako odvratno ali radoznalo trazi one pod zemljom
gusto groblje-guste misli:

dve prodavacice prodaju sok od sargarepe, na smenu- jedan dan jednoj plati jednu cenu drugi dan drugoj drugu. cuti. zakopa to u zeludac. guta vazduh namazan budalom. cuti. plati.  popije samar i sok.
na ulici razmazano oker govno, kao kanapei na srebrnom tanjiru.  
preskace, obilazi ga ona. preskace, obilazi ga i pas. kisa pada, oker krem gubi gustinu, pas nece pod kisobran juri senke i zapisava skupocene alo tepsije onih kojih se i pauk plasi.
zanoktica o vrh narandzastog jezika- rekapitulacija popisanosti i pogresno usmerene finoce. krv stedljivo iz nokta curi natapajuci nepce a mrmlja da sledeci put ce...
ali verovatno nece. jer ne razume tu gadnu nepravicnost. jer to je samo princip. mozda i hoce. jer princip je i sve.
dopire krik playback narodnjaka- komsija stigao sa posla, investitor umesto izloacije sigurno je kupio dzipa.
masina se centrifugom lansira u orbitu svake sekunde- privezala bi se za nju toaltet papirom....

aman, idi uci.
bolje ces se osecati.
kraj prozora cuje se ono dete sto svira trubu.
makar jos ne moras da trazis posao. eto imas vremena da smislis sta zelis da budes.
na kraju krajeva nemas urasle dlake. i da, auto ti je parkiran divlje pokupice ga pauk sigurno. i nemas dozvolu. kese za govna su u gepeku.
trebas psa izvesti.
sutra kupices sok od sargarepe, po ne zna se kojoj ceni.

rekla bi imas princip a i lenja si.

— The End —