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Talking to myself,
With a glass of whisky sour
If only love was a cake,
That I'd thoroughly devour
Hard to get off the
intentional high
In a world of unending emotions,
All I know is a melancholic sigh
Quiet uninhibited, this feeling of trance
All I needed is one last dance
Yet here I am
Hopping some brews,
If I fall in love again
I'm sure it'll make the news
The regular life
Now seen as an aberration
Of what used to be,
When we used to hold hands
With the whole world at our feet,
Just like the sky won't stop turning blue
Rest assured darling
I'll always remember you.
Well, never say never.
Alpha Apr 2022
It rained outside,
Me sheltered beneath a bridge.
I took a look around
And saw a tree up on a ridge.
It stood solely, solemn there,
The tree itself already downed;
Cut and brought away,
At this thought I frowned.
I let my eyes go on
And raised them to the sky.
Gray and dark and cold
Looked at those clouds high.
With tranquilizing drips
Fell the heavy rain
As if it would weep
For that poor tree‘s pain.
There were many of us
Who sheltered ourselves there.
The trunk all exposed outside,
I thought it wasn‘t fair.
It was a freezing day
But I was, as always, not cold.
I stood there, listening,
To a bird that sung so deeply woed.
It was narrow there,
But if I had been alone,
I would have stayed for an eternity
Thinking of my beloved ones.
This tree yonder, I thought,
It must have hosted once birds that used to sing.
Now it‘s gone, and the birds will be, one day, too.
And that, I thought, is a sad thing.
Wrote this one for a task in our English lessons.
I rather liked it, so I decided to publish it here.
der kuss Apr 2022
in the cleanest dream i had of moon
we dived into the deepest end of pool
he never left my side,
his brief was blue

underwater glimmer held me accountable
for things i longed the most, for things i wished for the most
such as fingers of my moon,
the many hearts of my moon in mine

you see, i wanted more than i could swallow
because i longed to be annihilated by those i loved
but underwater still, we held hands

i wanted to ask – why are you here?
we're seven feet below the surface of the water,
and decided not to ask – having you there was enough

as florentia, in another time we abandoned, he wrote me:
this need for affection kills
when you just can't afford love
Jammit Janet Dec 2021
I miss you, I miss you, I miss you
I miss you so much
It makes me feel as fragile as a tissue

That would tear from the weight of my tears
That shed the pain of my love
And release my deepest fears

That allow the ability
To persevere.
Fey Dec 2021
our fingertips meet gently on the rim of porcelain
and as we take a sip from liquid infinity
all the numbness abides - induced by frost and rain.

the ember glow ascending from your eyes -
no tender coffee with cream could ever achieve -
is the epitome of what makes my inner child arise.

and i adore the way your index finger moves around the surface of the storm-kissed-window,
while you utter your thanks for whatever makes this autumnal evening swirl in an indigo-colored vertigo.

and i see it too.

© fey (27/12/21)
It's as melancholic as the story of fantine and her lark in Les miserable, as heart breaking as the agony bursting forth in acclamation of a great battle lost.
always "awakens in the winters".
More heart wrenching as to he who awakens not until at final bed of repose.
Always awakens in the winters.
Ricardo Apr 2021
Why is the sky falling?
Why are we looking at empty loves?
Why do we cry when we hear his voice calling?
Why am I sunk fighting with my heart to shoves?
That's because we are smiling while lying.

When will we be able to fulfil our wish?
When will you stop being unpolite and selfish?
When are we supposed to be ourselves?
When am I will be out to you step by step?
The day you start hurting me again.

We are flying through blue fire,
make me cry again, please, is my desire.
You string my heart with a burning spire.
You're helping me to be a perfect lier.
Will you someday pretend to be a lily?

Questions and doubts we are paying,
people disappearing and staying,
melancholic songs are at night playing,
and I am here writing about someone who never exists before.
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