Sometimes life just pushes you through doors you never even noticed. Doors possessing a different keyhole than the one you have on your person. It was never locked; it stood there resolutely ignoring your breath while you ignore its oak.

You knock on it now.

You have trouble making a rhythm. Your nerves forget that doors could be opened from the outside. You stand there waiting for something to turn the ****, ignoring the fact that you are a man and you have hands and you alone have the strength to open it.

You knock some more.

Sometimes, the door is wrong. You figure out how to open it and you’re greeted by the nightfall. You put your hands in front of you and try to feel the wind. There are no gales in September. The room is a workshop and you are a doctor.

You take two steps backwards.

Life mocks you by throwing you by the same door again, some time after you forgot about the second one. You pushed it by muscle memory and was greeted by the sun. There is a bluebird perched on a willow. It sings for you, doctor. The song is for September.

The workshop at last.

I don’t need your money
I don’t seek your attention
I don’t want the love we had
And I hate the memories we once shared

Being torn apart
Screaming until you have no voice
Crying for help that won’t come
You’re in pain but you feel none

Some call you crazy for the things you try
Some find it admirable not knowing it’s all a lie
When there’s no escape and you know you’ve tried
Take every chance that arise to revive what long ago died.

It’s been quite a journey my friend
but now it’s time for it to end
So please, my stupid heart
Give it up so my life can start

What do I do
Why the hell do I do what I do
I feel like a train hurtling towards another
Yet doing nothing to stop because I love the thrill of going fast

Time is holding out on me
Promising solutions to old conflicts
Granting a reprieve to pain
A contract on her terms
And me, equine-like
Forever chasing the assurance
That one day
I'll wake up
And not have this serpent 'round my heart
But for now
It remains a hair's breadth out of reach

              -a crossroads contract

what if these stars are all those wishes
that never came true!
and they try to tell us...
that even something incomplete,
can be so beautiful...

and when the moon drowns...
into the black waters...
they'd stay lost and still...
entangled into each other...
hoping never to be found...
for home they had become...

Once again I’m here
stuck at the crossroads
dreaming of chasing
the dreams that are forever
Fleeting
bounded by the comfort of the past  
where unhappiness reigned free

With path should I choose
It so hard to be free
I just want to take a path
That lets me be me