I run without destination for the sole purpose of getting far away
And that's what existence is all about
Running in a vicious circle called life.
A circle that has nor starting points nor finishing lines.
But what if I want my running to stop
What if I'm tired of running
What if my weak feet cannot bare the weight of my body anymore?
They tell me you should get a rest
Yea, probably I should
But would the voices inside my head stop, too?
For my head is a jungle full of sounds that never shut up
A full time jukebox playing a cliché song that never ends.
Maybe none of you is interested in a story of a girl with voices
And I understand.
We live in a society where everyone choses to ignore others' pains but who ironically insists on sharing their joys.
Some flowers grow out of nothing They defy harshness and decide to love life instead of praying for its end.
I wish I had their strength, I wish I loved life.
I am not a life lover, and I remember my mother telling me that love is the only thing one cannot impose on you.
But mum, here they are blaming me for not loving "my life"
The dead world around us turns.
The hours of the day come their unstoppable way.
Yet everytime you speak
The whole fabric of time holds still.
I hold your arms
With mine wrapped around you.
And we keep on talking and talking and talking.
And yet it never seems enough.
Im never alone with you enough.
aren't we just made up of
snippets of other people
one's our eyes
have yet to
even those we may never meet
we romanticise our bad habits
we chant them like
we parade our melancholy insidiously
in hopes of someone listening
they hear our cries; they know it too
a pain so familiar
it unites a couple few
their desirous whines for
the land of milk and honey
may have been answered
as for the others
bliss only blesses the
it is kind of horrible but it's not like you'd get it
the rest of you have placid minds
simplicity at its best
one bad thing happens and you feel this or that
i, on the other hand, deluged in my shackles of
one bad thing happens and i feel all these other bad things
not that i'm the only one, a prisoner of my own head
i'm just the only one i know, bewildered
even in my own bed
I button up my jeans
Tucked in my shirt
And looked at you one last time.
Before I go
I take a good look at the room
And how much we've fucked it up.
You're probably gonna clean up afterwards.
You always do.
And I'll miss the way you taste
And I'll miss the way you dance
And I'll spiral down into unending darkness tonight
With your eyes on my mind.
And the rest is silence.
i think i silently vowed to never feel the pain of my entire world shattering again
because i can't seem to conceive the thought of someone reaching into my chest and opening up my heart again
because like a thief he came into my home he stole everything i've ever known
because i don't have anything to share with anyone anymore
for fear that these walls i have worked so hard to put up
will be taken down in the blink of an eye
because he forgot to lock the door when he left
because he never said goodbye
At times the waves wash ashore,
the fragments of a bygone memory,
little bottles in time, nothing more.
The gentle lull draws me closer,
to tears? maybe a smile or two,
submerged, just like my toes are.
Seaweed and shells, sit on sand,
and much like the present,
soon to drift, to unfamiliar lands.
It's cold in rolled up pants and sleeves,
and there isn't much left to see,
but there didn't need to be,
and so ~ I leave.