Blood wounds.
Smell of euphoria outside.
Today is Saturday.
I'm here bitting my tongue
And I'm going to listen to the talk of my fake friends.

Why they are you so afraid of getting old?

I will then go downstairs in that room where there are people with hot skins.
And I'm going to dance alone.

These pretty girls are so boring.
Everyone wants to die as heroes.
But people will continue to talk with their white teeth like snow.
I will continue to dance alone.

I'll be my best friend.
I will forget that people were born to die.
But people will continue to talk.


I feel so alone.
At the same time the smell of this feeling was so good.

I'm going to take sleeping pills.
I will continue to bite my tongue.

I never wanted to go back here.
I like to live in romance with my dreams.

I'm lying on the floor listening to their noise from above.

Here seems that no one is good enough.
It's funny and scary but I've never felt so alone.

But I'm going to keep dancing and let people talk.
In the house of a million dreams without fears.

Suddenly everything seemed so beautiful.
So I went downstairs to take pictures of everyone's dreams.
To remember that I'm going to continue a girl without life.

And I have died
softly
a million deaths -
drowning,
bleeding,
choking.
And yes, I remembered you.
I have found you
in the pictures,
in the screams
of broken tables
in the ghosts
and in the glass ceilings...
You were with me
every time
I died.

i see in pictures
no really, real pictures.
i still remember what the piazza looks like in my family's home town
its been 7 years.
i remember the old church next to it where they got married
i remember the stained glass windows along the walls
i remember the coffee shop across from the street that served espressos in tiny ornamental cups
i see it all.

7 years on and now i see you
i see you in that first red dress.
that first night with locks of hair that made me melt into the floor.
i see you in a dark cinema where i took the best risk of my life
where everything changed and now months later i see you
in a dress walking down the staircase
like an angel walking down from heaven.
i see you in my bed surrounded by the darkness of the night
your breath on me heavy with mine.
lost without a care.
i see you. by my side.
and i cant help but think how lucky i am.

as i write i view each moment like a photograph in my mind, some are fuzzy and unfocused but some are as clear as sunshine.
bright like the sunshine you are to me.

but i know, things are hard.
someone is going around stealing photos.
stealing images.
but we're going to take them back.

because i havent only seen and see now.
i can see what the future holds.
i can see the dew on the winter window and our faces pierced with sunlight.
i can see the nervousness of our first days into a new uni or work
and see the moment we reconvene at the end of the day to tell each other all about it
on the grassed steps of a sunken garden staircase holding hands
to birds chirping. sun shining or clouds pouring.
i can see us holding cups of tea watching ****** netflix shows
talking about anything everything
ill tell you the secrets of the universe as ill discover them
and later in the night,
we'll discover the secrets of our own hearts and souls.
between sheets. where we fall asleep to the sound of our own heartbeats
steady
steady.

i can see all of it.
clear as day even on a rainy night that this time may be to us.
to you.
you.
you did this to me.
you changed everything.
i can see all of it.
the future we could have with some time and hard work
with some love.
without letting anyone stand in our way.
because baby I'm ready to fall in love with you again and again
every single day because
i can see the future sometimes.
because i see in pictures.
no really, real pictures.
real pictures with real people like me
and you.
and us.

Hat pulled low over my face, I pull the lever of the pump,
getting back in my car,
hands placed on the steering wheel as if I'm going to drive away while the gas is going,
I just sit.
Alone.
Trying to clear my mind before the day.
That's when I see them.
A pixie-like little girl in denim and cotton,
tennis shoes untied and scuffed,
long hair trailing unkempt,
summer hair,
barely brushed,
she skips beside a man who is undoubtedly her father,
a serious-looking man dressed for a day of adventure,
the same nose as the sprite hopping along beside him.
At once,
I spiral into an invisible shoe box of photos...
then it's me with my hair down and my shoes untied and a big smile on my face as I accompany my father in the most mundane tasks.
Everything is an adventure with daddy,
everything is a game,
a brand-new experience ******* in shiny ribbons,
even if it's just going to the gas station.
They reappear from the store,
and the little girl excitedly pulls a bottle of chocolate milk from the plastic bag.
The colorful snacks look silly in the father's large, rough hands,
but he opens each package carefully,
handing her napkins,
and in her unrelenting grin,
anyone can see that she owns him heart and soul.
I shift uncomfortably in my mental shoe box,
and I see myself again,
overalls and a small bag of donuts,
licking the glaze from my fingers,
my father reaching over with a towel to wipe my face clean of chocolate glaze.
He chastises me, but he's smiling,
and he pops a donut into his mouth, too,
two best friends on a summer adventure,
nothing can stop our fun.
The father starts their rickety old suburban, and the little girl bounces excitedly in her seat, eager for their next stop. The mode of transportation could be a rusted row boat in the middle of a swamp,
but to her,
it's all a part of a beautiful memory that she'll never let go of.
And one day,
when her daddy is gone,
she'll drive up to the gas station in her own car
and sit in the driver's seat to take a breath,
and she'll see herself, fifteen years younger, prancing happily along her father's steady gait,
and she'll fall backwards into an unexpected
invisible
shoebox.