eyes of a fawn
innocent and wide.
its gaze on its mother,
its pelt spotted
like the shadow of the trees.

a cricket chirps,
little fawn looks back—
a stick breaks,
little fawn is gone.

hurt, touched, dead.
the mother was far away now.
it’s okay, little fawn,
it wasn’t your fault
for being born.

You will never be able to feel
Those hugs
The warmth close to the fire
The fresh breeze in a sunlit forest
The scent of beautiful flowers
The cat’s soft pelt
The smell of rain
Ever again

You will never be able to hear
The soft melody of the birds
The grass dancing in wind
Your favorite song
The gentle drizzle
The night animal’s calls in evening
Ever again

You will never be able to see
The graceful sunset
The pure animals
Those views..
The mysterious night sky
Nature..
The beauty of life
Ever again

So I say
Don’t go yet
We have so much to do
And you…
It’s myself in the mirror
So I say
Please stay
Ivan

is there is something out there?
or all i ever did was worth nothing?
belle says that my purpose is to simply be
because we’re all going to disappear someday
cause, yknow, healing takes time
lets just watch the sunset and hold hands

im learning to love the sound of the waves
they push me away, and tell me to stay
they tell me to bloom
calmly like the flowers in the deepest of forests

some scars never leave you.
just like the strong branches of a tree.
you carry them.
i will forever feel the branches

some memories never leave your mind.
just like the gentle breeze
they wander.
i will forever feel the breeze

its heavy, im tired
but you..
you make me wake up for a day

i lay, vulnerable
in the nest of thorns
they hurt when i try to approach them
it makes me bleed

i dont want to cry
despite being in so much pain
i dont want to cry
even if the coming tears suffocate me

my heart stabbed
by the nest of thorns
i wont cry
never vulnerable again

bird on the tree
catch it fast before it flees!
its feathers soft like a cloud
its body frail as petals
dear god
protect our animals

bird on the tree
we dont want to see it free
its claws as sharp as thorns
its mind in the sky
thinking why
it breathes
thinking why
it sees
and thinking why
it flies

bird on the tree
it does see
what we did
its eyes are open
and will never be closed again

father is part of my life
father gets home when the sun melts
father sits on his chair and drinks his glass
father yells at a broken glass
father sleeps on the couch
and doesn’t want to go to bed

‘why are you like this?’
father said.
‘you’re made of glass!’
father said.

when the moon is high
father looks at it
he says that reminds him of glass
is it the clear glass?
or is it the dark glass from your drink, dad?

father likes the moon
maybe he sees the light of it when he looks at his drink
its scary
seeing the liquor burn father’s throat
its scary
seeing the dad that loved me
say he’ll give up on me

a feather,
soft and light as the wind.
it is carried by the soft breeze, and it has seen everything. (are you SURE?)

dear feather, haven’t you seen?
the star that shines for me
‘no, it’s not for you. it’ll never be.’
and the feather wanders and wanders, seeking to see everything.

dear feather, haven’t you seen?
the art that i am opens its eyes for me
‘no, it didn’t. it never will.’
and the feather was once again, pushed by the soft breeze of the morning.

dear feather, haven’t you seen?
the chains that trapped my mouth were parted
i bite now
‘even if you did, it’ll just hurt more. the cycle continues and you earn nothing with it.’
but the feather didn’t wander, the breeze seemed to stop.
(better luck next time)

“i love you”
the purest words you say
but my tears blurred my thoughts
like always

the night after i killed myself
the sun had sank, and i saw you
silently crying looking at the stars
dont worry, im them, and theyre me
perhaps you could find me in the vastness of space

the night after i killed myself
i went back to the place where i stayed the most
the bed was still warm, and hugo, dear stuffed dog, lays there
he knows i wont come back
at least he tried

the night after i killed myself
mother looked at my room
wondering what did she do wrong
wasnt she a good mother?
it wasnt you

the night after i killed myself
for once father felt guilty
he took mother’s hand, trying to comfort her
he knows he was a part of it

the night after i killed myself
i finally closed my eyes,
guided to eternity, maybe?
i just know i am in peace
among the pines of eternal rest
birds sing, lullaby sang by mother
when i was little

i never saw you go
the morning was rainy, and i saw mother on the couch
crying to herself.

father said you were gone
‘gone?’ i said, tears forming in my eyes
why did you go?
wasnt those talks on the stairs enough?

the way you looked at me
‘don’t worry, i’ve got you’
the way my mom loved you
‘my chubby girl!’

the walks on the park,
but your friend Black wasn’t here anymore
i loved your black spots
and your droopy ears
and your white muzzle

my cousin always came excited
‘let me give her a treat!’
not now, lets play first
she never gave her a treat

when you went to the park,
you had a company,
the girl with the bag
full of treats after the walk

after you were gone, she came to the house,
saying she missed you
and she’d never forget you.
was this part of the job?

Dear Jennis,
even if you never caught the ball
you always laid down on my side
on your little green bed

the guitar strums its chords, the place is dark
but i somehow can still see
the fire outside
its not cold anymore
its not dark anymore

was i like a rock?
that bares the harsh waves of the sea?
that gives home to the lost shells?
that doesn’t know how is outside?

the guitar continues, and we’re swimming.
i watch the rock, the waves beating on it, making a loud noise.
i cover my ears, and you watched me
its blurry

the music doesn’t stop
even if I can’t see the rock anymore.
I follow you to the depths
and we play splashing water on each other
the depths aren’t so scary!
‘yeah. i told you’ you replied, looking at the rock again.

‘remember her?’
no.
‘you should. she lived half of your life’
what do you mean?
who?
and the music continues, and the waves too! it’s amazing, how things move..
how things move..

but it’s like this, despite the stress you still stand
running in the moorland, braiding your hair
stepping into the rushing waters, home to the fish
they play hide and seek, dodging the steps
the tall grass tickles the knees, and you fall
‘get up, it’s only a scratch!’
youth, pure youth

i listen to my heart beating
my fragile hands
carrying the most beautiful flowers
and souls
watching the birds sing in the hidden trees of the forest
i look around, tripping on a rock
maybe i should learn to live with it
second youth