#newcomer
Broken, the planks
have fallen.
Useless, the sail
is plunging.
Asleep, the sailor
arrives.
Comfortable, it is
—the sand—
It doesn't wake him up
or send him back.
A desert island
is a good place for a new start.
But the island is not desert—
people have lived there
for years, decades—
generations.
They tie him to a tree,
they slap his face awake,
until his mouth lets out
a shy, almost silent greeting:
"Hi, I'm the new child"
His face is red,
from slaps and embarrassment.
He wishes they let him go,
he wishes they turn to something else—
but they don't.
Night falls, they go to sleep.
They are tired—he is tied.
Below the quiet stars,
when he almost had fallen asleep,
a girl approaches to help him.
"Hi! I'm sorry for what they did",
she says.
"They just love to be superior to strangers"
—her face filled with disappointment—
"You know, they are humans—
they love to do that.
By the way, my name's Emily"
When she stops talking,
he is not tied anymore.
Emily extended her hand—
"Mine is John",
he says as he takes her hand.
"Well, John—
this is the warmest welcome you'll get"
Mar 6
Mar 6, 2026 at 2:40 PM UTC
I'm into the dark bloom
I cried for the doom by an obscene colostomy
do not dare to ask whose
I just shall not answer in my mask of crystal
I sniff my pain
I shout my regret
but, could I give this guilt a culprit or a name anyway?
The lines of fear start to turn out my brain
even if it is going to devour me
let me be mysterious
even if you know what the plot is
Is the light a fool?
Or just am I being the silly mime?
I disintegrate on the void of their heart
My head creates non-existent memories before my disease
but at the edge of the lame time
who I am to blame?
Just lose you in the deepest ditch
where the ache is not drilling my walls
just the silence of my biggest penumbra counting my clock’s sand.
Jan 30, 2020
Jan 30, 2020 at 2:45 PM UTC
Realistically, I do not have a home.
Realistically, all I have are dreams.
But in my dreams, there is more to see.
A purpose.
A life worth living.
Cause you see realistically, I am not alive, just living.
Realistically, i am not worthy for anything except for ignorance.
Trapped in a body, mind lost, soul bound.
Tell me god, where do I find my way out.
In dreams I tell you my child.
Because in dreams, that is where you can find.
The god you search, not here, not alive, in your dreams.
Mar 20, 2019
Mar 20, 2019 at 4:52 PM UTC
He came in with ease
Everything froze in a beat
In beauty and breeze
Sep 13, 2017
Sep 13, 2017 at 3:41 PM UTC