#weekday
If I could turn back time,
If I could turn back,
If I could turn,
If I could,
If I,
If.
Jun 18, 2024
Jun 18, 2024 at 4:59 PM UTC
caressing her curves
she looks away
innocent feelings arise
"i missed you today"
Nov 12, 2020
Nov 12, 2020 at 4:56 PM UTC
The platform is quiet when I arrive.
The walk home is long.
The road is busy with lights, but no faces.
I should have worn gloves.
Nearly there now.
Someone's home but nobody was waiting.
I pull a smile out my pocket and drop my keys,
Then I listen to words about the day.
My bed brings solitude,
While questions crawl behind my eyes.
Scraping inside my skull, they're familiar,
And I drift off on their backs.
Jan 28, 2020
Jan 28, 2020 at 2:30 PM UTC
My head is still sleeping
My eyes a bit teary
My body is a bit slowly
I'm feeling cloudly
My breath is whispering
I'm to lazy its no Sunday
but it's Monday
I'm in my bed
under my sheet
pillow in my chest
the aircon is On
the window i close
I'm to lazy
its lazy Sunday but it's Monday
Mar 6, 2019
Mar 6, 2019 at 1:19 PM UTC
Weekday drinking
With you
It's stupid
But we do so many stupid things together
So this can't be that bad
Weekday drinking
I don't see you everyday
Anymore
I miss you in the weekends
So we bring the weekend to us
Just a little earlier
Weekday drinking
Something I only wanna do with you
You and I
I love you infinity
Sep 26, 2016
Sep 26, 2016 at 3:08 PM UTC
I hold my breath.
It pains me to think I filled this basin...
Drop by drop...
So I can burry my head beneath the slap of water.
My hair tickles my cheeks as they swim.
Only when I'm allowed to, I raise my head
(just before I loose the fight with myself
to fill the void in my lungs from my screams).
I cough and listen:
The deafening heartbeat punctuated by whimpers and sloshing water
is broken as foreign air and sound renew the canals of my ears.
Your sweet voice is there
and I listen dumbly - blissfully - to it
as my damp cheeks are met with your warm palms
(like pebbles holding the heat of the sun).
We hold each other.
I remember of fond dreams.
And just as my hair sheds its watery seal,
parting and rising from my scalp in ribbons
I hold my breath again,
stabbing my face into the basin of water.
It's a ritual I'm to practice.
I survive by swallowing my desires and longings,
painful as they are to go down
when only to be brought back up in the end.
Oct 28, 2015
Oct 28, 2015 at 9:50 PM UTC