The first time I met you
You said I was too quick,
That you liked to take your time.

I said, well okay fair enough
Let's take this as slow as should.

It didn't take two weeks
Before you broke me.

Speak of quickness.


-- Eleanor

Never be happy,
Said the girl with blue hair
Because then you will become
Very very boring
And you will start to die.


-- Eleanor

there is a sacred place
that lives in every single
one of us.

i suspect it to be
the very place
Beethoven's music
came from.

and when we have
a late night conversation
in your bathtub
over a bottle of wine
you take me there.


-- Eleanor

Between you
And me
There is magnet
You are a star
I am a planet.


-- Eleanor

He thinks he knows me
Like a book he reads.

But God, must I feel
For the metaphors,
The magic, the depth
And the world between the lines
Left unseen...


-- Eleanor

I thought I forgot you
I thought I long had you buried
Deep in my memory.
I thought you could no longer haunt me
Like you used to do so often.
I thought I got over you
Until your eyes met mine today,
Once or twice at most and that was about it.

I couldn't look at you,
I couldn't look at you without bursting into tears,
So I burst into laughter instead.
And I suppose that you saw through my fake act.
Anyway...

You were there in your corner,
There in your pedestal,
There in your elegance
Drawing something dangerously beautiful
And you were beautifully dangerous.
And I,
I could only watch you from a distance
And learn to admire you
Without touching you,
Without kissing you,
Or ******* you.

We exchanged a conversation
About random things
You know, like
How it took me about an hour
To take a proper picture of the cat you gave me,
How it tragically died,
How I didn't cry when it died...
But I actually did cry when it died...

You looked all right, seriously.
There in your peaceful world
That I no longer was part of.
There in your artistic mind,
There in your capacity to forget,
There in your tendency to break promises,
There in the awful effect you always have on me.

So you said goodbye
Because you had something to go back to.
I said goodbye
Even though I had nothing to go back to.

We parted ways once again,
Me with your drawing pencil in my bag
And you, you my dear, with a piece of me
Inside your pocket.

I remember you once said forever, but you only lied.
I went home,
I went home and cried.


-- Eleanor

Listen, it's a beautiful thing
when distilled to its essence;
reduced to its purest form.
A paradox and a paradigm;
a paragon of perfection.
Epic in its arythmetic
progression; poetic.
Like Chinese arithmetic,
so hard it hurts. Yet soft
and exquisite, like a bubble
of love caught in a beating heart.
That place where poetry starts.