I am still the fly
picking at that old dung heap
though I see the pulsating light
beyond the wings of the moth

do I need permission
to take to the light?
only from myself
and I am yet the fly

though someday
I will be the light

I heard people say love makes you, no good.
but never believed maybe I should.
Loving you was like filling a *** with a hole at its bottom.
I became the leaf and you become autumn.
But now the pain evaporated and my eyes are open.
confusion and all illusions are broken.
now I know how to walk the right direction.
for all my mistakes I have a way to correction.
Soon this struggle will give me wings to fly.
with a smile, all my tears will dry and from now on I will never cry.

All lives matter!!

*** simti clar lipsa de tandrete
De aceea nu am pic de politete.
Am ales sa mi gasesc o alinare,
Scriind poezii despre *** doare.
*** doare timpul care nu iarta,
*** doare absenta ta deodata.
Si *** dor toate, pe interior
Nelasand nimic bun la exterior.
Am lasat regrete sa ma macine,
Dar am pastrat iubirea intr-o imagine.
Din tot ce am invatat de la tine,
Am inteles ca timpul vindeca de la sine.
M-ai invatat sa trec peste orice dezastru.
Asa ca, dincolo de nori, cerul e mereu albastru.

She apologizes
To strangers
When they were in the wrong

She apologizes
For little things in which,
Apologies don't belong

She apologizes
For everything
Assuming she is flawed

I'm just sorry
She can't see past her self-loathing facade

"You love her but she doesn't love you back."
"Love is an illusion, you know?"

An illusion of what?
Every illusion has its shadow.
It's a counterpart of something real is it not?
So, what's your point?

"I'm saying it's all fake, an abstraction of the mind."

If you know what is fake, then surely you can tell me what's real.
Unless you are just wasting my time on your theoretical insight on life?

"No--"

--You can't just go around making asinine statements on things if you don't have all your facts in order; people are bound to find you simply delusional.

"..."

Even if I am mistaken, don't tell me what I felt is something akin to, but not, love.
You're only stretching the truth; not dismissing it.

Love, adoration, fondness, endearment:
all sentiments of the same body; the same flood of thoughts.
The only discernable distinctions are how they are expressed from the heart and what catalyzed them.
And those distinctions are very real.
I made no mistake with my attraction, just a decision.