sometimes,
i hate the world
for still going on,
like it has
completely forgotten
about what happened to us.


Like it has
completely forgotten  
about people like us.

Sleep calls from a distance
I turn; on a bed of yesterday's tears
and tomorrow's dreams.
The weight of their expectations
lies heavy like a nursing baby
on my chest.
I do not want it.
I'm afraid the bed is too small
for the both of us.

you just started fading away
like colors left under the sun
for too long.
Sorry.
I didnt mean to.

you cant always make pain leave.
it knows its directions.
it knows how to follow you home.
pain knows its way to your sheets.
it knows which side of the pillow is colder.
if it ever visits you tonight
just let it in,
lead it to the blank pages
of a notebook.
there,
it will stay.
between these lines,
this is where it stays.

this body will never know
that the sea surface
could also be  gentle and kind.
it will only know
the sea's hunger for
things it could claim.
but then again,maybe,
this body was not built
for such gentleness and kindness.
this body was made to sink.
it knows that sunken cities
dont kiss the ocean floor
in a haste.
it knows because
it has been doing it
for years,
- slow,passionate.
all those towering dreams
it spent on building
some unpaved asphalt roads,
some rooms full of strangers,
some quiet places,
some homes made with strength,
some little cosmos patches.
All drowning and sinking.
Just because
i was too afraid to swim.


//but maybe atlantis is a home for lost,hopeless people like me.