the city across the river is built

we're scant hydrophobic
watchers of a new end
anti-venom of love stories
flightless courageous birds

and after seasons
the river just won't dry

this is the song of the night
the unsung memories
a dynamic silence
forte towards the end

i remember being in a car when i was four years old, looking outside and smiling, being thankful that it hadn't rained for months.
i remember walking down this very pavement when it was slippery and i was six and wanting nothing else but to go home
i remember going to my best friend's house when water flooded the streets, i fell down and bruised my knee
i remember seeing a woman lose her shoe during a flood

i feel like i wasn't made to love rain. i love it when it ends. i love the smell of the grass after it rains. i love rainbows. i love all the cliches of it.

to answer your question,
i loved the rain exactly twice in my life
the second one being last june
you left in july and i haven't loved rain since

i've had the same question for days,
and i most definitely am not gonna ask you
this was always about myself
you're gonna scream you never knew
but the only thing worse than not knowing
is you thinking that i don't know.

maybe,
loving you was a reflex
and you never broke me
it always took just a second
for me to crumble down in your hands.

maybe it was never your hands after all.

buzz, buzz, buzz
did i ever love you
or were you an escape?
did i ever love you
or were your name just drops of ink
i needed to fill this crumpled journal.

i'm hopelessly hopeful

i once dreamt of shooting your plane down
and woke up feeling everything right

your laugh begged me for forgiveness
and i struggled to mention that i was glad to have you gone

it's 5 in the morning
you were never the one who keeps me going
but ask me who on earth i turn my head left for,
and wake up next morning feeling everything right

it's 2 in the afternoon and i struggle to see photons bouncing from your lips

wearing light armor of bravery,
turning left was a decision i made
and maybe this war never meant too much
or it was never a war

but i swear i knew,
you were just hopeless enough

i can see myself in you,
and i might like that*

last winter's first snow
do you remember?
we were salt that won't help defrost
and hoped summer was in permanent slumber

pebbles and branches
three ***** of snow
our little snowman was ready to go
then i thought summer stayed on your lips

i wonder what's so great about snowmen
do you see yourself in them?

I'm not dead yet, sugar.

I hope you aren't either.

all that you are is the last bits of hope-
the ones to blame in times of despair,
endorphin sprinkled on a void
uncontrollable glitches on a perfection

clenched teeth,
sweaty palms
high-pitched voice,
monotone talks

all you hear is untried wishes
and throwaway dreams
fresh regrets,
and cosmic what if's

all that you are is my last bits of hope
and this is a love like hospital prayers

here comes the part;
where i scream my flooded lungs out
gibberish that only makes sense to me
and clear words that you won't listen

and i pressed the mute button

you're never fond of complications
and i'm tired of being tangled
you're a believer of "silence is golden"
and i'm tired of being glittery

catch the remote controller
you're gonna like me someday

cheers
i took off, i'm a spring
push me down, let me go
and i'll rise higher than you know

cheers
i'm going places you never knew existed
unlit roads i told you i was afraid of?
they're more familiar than your fingertips

cheers
i'm above these stormy clouds,
crawling in space, having hard times
but safe from hurricanes

for sweet revenge.

It's all blurred, and
I don't know whom to fight.

to: aleph

hey
there's so much things going on in these last two weeks. at least in my head. you left. i closed the door loudly. i locked it and i hoped that you could hear the sound of the locks clicking. ( but i didn't want you to hear how my hands was shaking when i was looking for the right key).

all i want to say is i'm sorry. i'm sorry i don't tell you enough, i'm sorry that i told you too much things that doesn't matter. i'm sorry i treat you like another ego-booster. i'm sorry i acted like i didn't care. i, in fact, really care about you and it hurts me to see you think that i don't.

please never forget the way i looked you in the eyes when we listen to that verse together.

i wish i was braver, i'd break this silence that's been killing me. but then again, if i was braver, i would have told you i love you a thousand times.

i'd say "i'd do it all again", sweetly like in one of our favorite songs, but no, i'm not brave enough, and we destroyed each other too much.

--status: draft. 26.3.2015 22:47

do you ever miss home
do you ever miss the people chanting your name
do you ever miss hearing your name pronounced properly
do you ever miss this shade of red
do you ever miss home?

standing in a city that's constantly trying to abort its breath, we're looking at the sky

we might be defined to repeat fist-pumping anthems and tragic falls. all of them, no returns.

and you ask me, "don't you want to start over and look anywhere but at me?" that question again, and my answer is always no.

oh, baby boy, lift your headache head...

remnants of our past? oh they burn all right, fire roaring, smoke choking. they're just waiting for the next rain to put them to sleep

then they sleep, and it's morning. time to start again.

you'll be a stranger again and even though i'm choking on their ashes, i will not recognize you.

pump your fists. we'll fall again without a clue.

i read somewhere
that when you can't sleep
someone's dreaming about you
i'm sorry
but last night i had three dreams
two of them are nightmares
nightmares about you
and you almost fell asleep in the bus this morning
i'm sorry

*i read somewhere
that when you have dreams, you are sleeping rather well

so we know that it won't stop raining
we're stuck in the broad basketball yard
heart thumping hard like a bassline
i feel lost; you won't taste the rain

and we knew it rained hard a year ago,
locked our existences under sobbing clouds
nothing was worse than being under a roof
and i felt found despite the bad lighting