I'll sneak away at night
when the world is fast asleep
as your breath rises and falls, deep and slow
as the stars dance in the sky under their mother the moon
hidden by the light from the street lamps

I'll quietly slip from my warm bed
shocked by the chilling air as I peel back the covers
and I'll tip-toe past your bedroom
and put on my shoes
and leave my tear-stained letter on the kitchen table

you won't even notice as I leave
as I creep open the front door hesitantly
as my feet drag me out to the bus stop
and I wonder if it's too late to turn back

when the bus brings me to my stop
and I walk towards the bridge
my heart won't stop racing
I wonder if this really is my fate
as I near the ledge

I shut my eyes and envision you
still drifting away in the land of dreams
sleeping peacefully in my absence
I get closer to the ledge

you won't even notice I'm gone
your chest will still rise and fall
your dreams will continue to play
the stars will continue to dance under their mother moon
and the street lamps will shine until the morning
and when the morning comes
and the sun rises out of its bed
and the moon and her children leave for the day
and your dreams finally come to an end
please don't miss me

when the world gets unbearable I retreat into the purity of words
do I own this heart or she owns me
an excedent of beats today as if I was traversed by an invisible sigh
my thoughts are a nomadic population searching for a soil without fear
death presents itself as an indifferent character, a secondary thing, an involuntary business, the latest fashion
who cares about the pain of the air
the skin of hours can hardly hold minds under siege
nights melt time like wax while I need to look at helplessness from a different angle
an unpredictible trajectory decides for the mornings we wake up into
there is space in the centre of words while the sky is eroded by death's toys
the eyes stand in the way some say we must die on earth to be born in the sky,  the sky disagrees, the dust clots
there are patches of blue sky somewhere, there is enough silence to hear the explosions in one's head or the augmented beauty of sleep
power miscalculates its claims in the impermanence of bones

i know being lost.
been walking around
these woods for a while now,
same trees and same moss.
remind me again
what side does it grow on,
the south or the north?
it's not like the difference
makes any difference,
but it might make me feel
a little bit better.
same traps
and same hunting spots.
i can't really tell
a noose from a ladder,
that's probably
why i'm still here.
been trying to see
the sun for a while now,
but there's nothing but leaves.
eventually everyone leaves.
i know being lost.
taught myself
the art of surviving
all on my own,
but i'm getting tired.
my water is gone,
my food is expired.
still hoping to find a way out
out of spite,
wondering what it would feel like
to be underground.
out of sight,
out of mind.
been walking around
these woods for a while now.

there's an anchor weighing me down.
it won't let me change the course,
but it also won't let me drown.
it makes sure that the water stagnates
as rust compromises the fuel tanks.
losing buoyancy at a rising rate,
somehow staying afloat just to spite me.
i should find the leak and ignite it,
i should let someone else decide now,
but i've been patching holes in the hull.
some would call it a waste of time,
i guess i'm not ready to drown yet.

They say I slept like  
I was in a shallow grave,
Still warm, but rigid.
eyes glazed over..

I tried to wake myself up,
But as I looked down,
Chills evaporated through me.

I slept like death, my pillow
A grave stone of dreams.
Tucked in beneath the
Shallow entombment
of slumber.

Yet, upon my resurrection,
I feel like I’d never even
Sewn my eyes shut.
As sunlight seers my retina.

I walk into the light, dead on my feet..

Feels like I won’t fit anywhere,
not in rooms, not in hearts, not even in air.
Like I was born out of place,
a wrong note in a song no one dares to play.

Feels like I am not worth anything,
not a glance, not a second, not a kind word.
Just a shadow walking through noise,
an empty chair no one remembers to miss.

Feels like I’m a burden,
a silent load they carry with gritted teeth.
Their kindness feels like mercy,
not love. Just tolerance. Just time ticking.

Feels like God made a mistake
when He placed me in my mother’s womb.
Like He flinched when He saw me forming,
like He whispered, “Not her,” but it was too late.

Feels like He regrets it every day,
watching me stumble in a skin that never fit,
watching me ache for meaning
in a world that turns away from my voice.

Feels like I should end it myself,
not to escape, but to give peace to them.
To stop being the sigh in their silence,
the tear they hide, the guilt they carry.

Feels like if I leave,
the sun might shine softer,
the room might feel lighter,
and no one would have to pretend anymore.

𝑆𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔,  
𝑇𝑖𝑠 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑔𝑎𝑛 𝑠𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔.
𝑊ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑓𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑔,
𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑍𝑒𝑝ℎ𝑦𝑟’𝑠 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑛𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑧𝑖𝑛𝑔.  

𝐼𝑡‘𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑎 𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑣𝑎𝑠, 𝑣𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑝𝑖𝑐𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑞𝑢𝑒,
𝑝𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑦𝑒𝑑 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡 ℎ𝑢𝑠𝑘.
𝐼𝑡‘𝑠 𝑎𝑠 𝑠𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑦 𝑎𝑠 𝑎 𝑟𝑢𝑠𝑘
𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑎𝑤𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑢𝑠𝑘.  

𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑒𝑟,
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑠𝑐𝑜𝑟𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑤𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟.
𝑆𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑓𝑒𝑙𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑚𝑒𝑟,
𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑚𝑠 𝑏𝑟𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑒𝑟.  

𝑇𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑟𝑢𝑖𝑡,
𝐴𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑎𝑙𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑟𝑜𝑜𝑡.
𝐼𝑡 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑛 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑜𝑜𝑡,
𝐴𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑒𝑎𝑘 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑒𝑟’𝑠 𝑏𝑢𝑡𝑡𝑒.  

𝐹𝑎𝑙𝑙,
𝐹𝑙𝑜𝑟𝑎𝑙’𝑠 𝑔𝑟𝑜𝑤𝑡ℎ 𝑏𝑒𝑔𝑎𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑙.
𝑉𝑒𝑟𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑙𝑙,
𝑊ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑓𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑠𝑞𝑢𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑏𝑒𝑓𝑎𝑙𝑙.  

𝑍𝑒𝑝ℎ𝑦𝑟’𝑠 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑑,
𝐼𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑔𝑟𝑜𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑙𝑑.
𝑊ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑓𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑠 ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑑,
𝐴𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑎𝑝𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑠 𝑢𝑛𝑓𝑜𝑙𝑑.  

𝑊𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟,
𝑆𝑢𝑟𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑔𝑟𝑜𝑤𝑠 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑟,
𝐴𝑠 𝐹𝑙𝑜𝑟𝑎 𝑦𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑚𝑒𝑟,
𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑘𝑒𝑝𝑡 𝑔𝑟𝑜𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑑𝑒𝑟.  

𝐵𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑝𝑡ℎ 𝑜𝑓 𝑠𝑛𝑜𝑤,
𝐴𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑔𝑜.
𝐿𝑖𝑓𝑒‘𝑠 𝑒𝑏𝑏 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑓𝑙𝑜𝑤 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑢𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑔𝑜,
𝐸𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑎 𝑓𝑙𝑜𝑒.

Un an de când am trăit
Fiecare pas într-un loc îndreptat
De unde nu te-ai mai mișcat
Și cățelușii, doar eu i-am plimbat

Un an de când nu ne-ai poftit
La masă, in memoria ta intristat
Acum eu la alții am dat
Și de băut, și de mâncat

Un an de când nu ne-am zâmbit
Multă lume m-a îmbrațișat
Numele tău se ivi menționat
Și tu nu, în mod repetat

Un an de când ai murit

Pixels bloom and softly fade,
Digital ghosts in sunlight played.
A fleeting touch, a whispered plea,
Lost in the vast immensity.

We build our worlds of light and code,
But even data finds its road
To entropy, to silent rest—
Another echo, gently blessed.