no sound.
when you're drowning there's nothing
but endless, unlimited space,
a bottomless vacuum of thought.
from water we come into the world;
its shallow, yet tight embrace
accompanies us till we're nothing
again.
no strings to be bound,
no sound
and no pain.

mornings are slipping away in a blur,
patterns of certain habitual sadness.
words with no meaning,
disease with no cure.
porcelain dolls, both lifeless and ageless.
haunted by visions, hidden in mirrors,
wrapped in despair, victims and sinners,
chasing the rush of the next final turn.
decades are slipping away in a blur.

wait a moment, please.
should she feel sorry for being an inconvenience?
she'd rather plant the seeds of self-love
and wait for them to turn into trees,
sheltering her from poisonous bitterness,
nurturing her inner peace,
so that she can leave this world with ease,
letting time cover her steps with green and red,
letting the branches take shape of her silhouette.
someday this path might be found by someone else,
as unaware of her worth as she once was,
all of out of strength, given up on all her hopes;
she'll follow whispers and slowly retrace the steps,
and take her shelter among the fallen leaves,
nurturing her inner peace.
wait a moment, please.
should she feel sorry for being an inconvenience?

he doesn't even realise it yet,
but holding her is but a momentary bliss
and being abandoned by her is torture.
despite already being caught in it,
he doesn't see the intricately spun web
or perhaps he doesn't mind it at all,
hanging by the thread of a a fleeting kiss.
she's fire and fury, barely contained,
a hurricane, disobeying the nature's orders,
an impossibility, endlessly defying itself,
and he doesn't even realise it yet,
but he's always been hers.

she borrows the light from the sun
just before it can set,
slipping to the other side of the horizon,
reflecting it in her irises,
covering them in liquid gold.
she's the entity that the pagans prayed to,
the object of countless legends.
she slips into her skin like a hand-sewn dress,
and everyone who ever loved her
is now consumed by the earth.
she picks flowers that took root in their skulls,
wears a crown of white ribs
and grows around their remains like moss.
she's the end of all things,
the silent watcher of time,
meeting the travelers on every single one
of the countless roads.
she borrows the light from the sun
just before it can set,
breaking through the other side of the horizon,
reflecting it in her irises,
standing by as the world around her burns.

a paragraph, written a million times
doesn't remain the same cause the words
are constantly changing themselves,
and you are as well.
a fire that burns through the night
may seem bleak compared to the brightness
of a brand new sunrise,
but at the end of the day
it's not the amount of light that counts
but the strength to survive again.
and people are not some constructs
to be created and disassembled at whim.
they have their own voices
and their own incredible stories to tell,
and you do as well.

i hope there's a place for us
in the end.
unwanted, unpleasant,
they feel so uneasy when we bring it up,
the horrors of death.
they want to forget,
they want to be safe in their bubbles
of blissful oblivion.
right.
should we say we're sorry
for being too loud,
too angry, too stubborn,
not willing to die without a struggle?
perhaps we're just making it all up.
well,
although it was mostly pretend,
we really appreciate
your concern.
thanks for nothing.
i hope there's a place for you, too,
in the end.

a false promise of freedom to a captured man,
just like a cup of poison, filled up to the brim.
a note between the stones of all the walls we've built
and all all the walls they tore down just to fight again.
it's nothing like the light that breaks a peaceful dawn,
it's painted in the colours of a foreign flag.
and everything that burns takes us a lifetime back,
and everyone who died was not meant to be born.
acceptance isn't earned, it's but a weapon drawn
and aimed at those who dare to overstep the line.
a shattered cup of poison for a senseless crime
filled up by blood of every prisoner of war.

there, if you can see the end of the line,
where shadow and light intertwine,
we'll watch the birth of a short-lived twilight
before its life is consumed by the night.
we'll hold each other and watch the tide
as it approaches us from the horizon.
for what it's worth this life never felt quite right
without you carrying me through every storm,
without you catching me after every fall,
and it's my honour to love you this one last time.
we'll meet again, there, at the end of the line.

there's a letter, forgotten on the shelf.
to the unknown lover.
to the one i lost.
to the one i dreamed up on a sleepless night.
to the one who haunts me like a ghost.
to the one that never bothered to call.
to the one that simply wasn't right.
to the one i hurt.
to the one who broke my heart.
to the one who forgot.
to the one i imagined my future with.
to the one who slowly drifted apart.
to the one with the sweetest goodbye kiss.
to the one that i thought was the one.
there's a letter, forgotten on the shelf.
to the unknown lover.
to the one who left.

you were the brilliance of midnight sky,
the watercolours in the morning dew.
i know i promised i would make it right,
i know i said that i'd come back for you.

but there's a warning in the red and white,
it sounds like someone's gonna lose control.
and i don't think i'll make it home tonight,
no, i don't think i can survive this fall.

you were the sunlight, boastful in its pride,
the subtle shift before the darkness grew.
i'm sorry that i couldn't make it right,
i'm sorry that i can't come back for you.

you are a work of art, my dear.
a poem,
             prayer,
                         plea
                                and promise.
my greatest love, my biggest fear.
my soul,
              my sanity,
                               my sin.
my heaven, hell and purgatory.
my dear, you are my everything.

madness is writing itself
in a spiral of thoughts
that vanish so quickly
before you could catch them,
before you could listen
to somebody else
but your own broken mind.
before every page
that you've written so far
is torn,
before you are, too,
crucified.
before every last ounce of hope
is forgotten and lost,
madness is writing itself
in a spiral of thoughts.

approaching, appeasing
this beautiful ghost.
no, don't disappear,
i won't get too close.
i'm willing to spend
all my life standing still
with you by my side.
please, don't disappear.

someday we will meet again,
but all this time in separation,
without you i no longer recognize
the person that i am.
it hurts so much to realize,
i got so used to seeing life
from your perspective.
but even though you're gone
and all that's left is pain,
i know someday we'll meet again.

your image flickers in the dark,
you are so distant, yet so close.
i raise my hand to stroke your hair,
i try to hold this lifeless ghost,
but the illusion fades away
and leaves my loneliness exposed.
your image flickers in the dark,
you are so distant, yet so close.

for you i could admit
that love is real,
that heaven's closer
than i thought before.
and i could be
your most devout believer,
if i had you
i'd ask for nothing more.
for you i could abandon
all my vices
and settle down,
for once i saw you here
you made me lose my mind,
i couldn't take my eyes
off you,
and thought
"well, maybe love is real."

...and every single day you're gone
hurts more.
i don't know what to do,
i've lost my purpose.
my name, when you don't say it,
is forgotten.
my face, when you don't look at it,
is blurred.
i couldn't recognize myself these days,
a shadow that protects your endless sleep.
i've hated you for years,
but now you haunt my dreams
and all my life's forever yours to keep.

what does it feel like
to be seen?
for someone to long for you,
your creases and wrinkles,
the shape of your silhouette.
what does it feel like
to be adored?
from up close or from a distance,
hesitant and unsure,
that quiet, unspoken desire.
what does it feel like
to be known?
without sharing a word,
with nothing left to be said
out loud.
when everything that you do
is the epitome of beauty
in another's eyes,
is this what it feels like
to be loved?

heaven is a lonely place to die
even if it's called a paradise.
there must be a reason why
the ticket comes
with a warning in small font.
don't forget to say goodbye,
there will be no coming back
from this joyride.
take a step towards your dream.
is it just as sweet as you thought?
was it really worth your life?
i hope so.
heaven is a lonely place to die
even if it's called a paradise.
now that you're already here,
welcome home.

i poured my sadness into you
although it wasn't fair,
i made you suffer the same fate
because i was so scared
to be alone.
and in this empty, desolated place
i stole your light,
abused your grace,
and then i took your life.
i know that it's too late,
there's no way home.
i'm sorry,
i'm just scared to be alone.

the things i've done,
they sank into my skin
and drew a crimson pattern
on the surface,
so when i die,
i want to die with purpose,
and cleanse away
this everlasting sin.

...and at the end
of the line
i'd still bend down for you,
bow my head for you,
break my neck for you,
rip my heart out of my chest
for you.
and even if i'm to die
at your hand,
i would do so willingly,
standing right in front of you.
i'd bleed out for you,
give my life to you,
stain my name for you,
for at the end of the line
all my love belongs to you.
you're the only one i want,
the only one i need,
the only one i see,
and for me
there can never be anyone else
but you.

i'm rewriting my past
and rebuilding my mind;
i've been killing myself
just to feel alive,
but it doesn't work anymore.
so i'm learning to dream,
and it's hard to believe,
but i don't really want to die.
i'm rewriting my past
and letting my fears go;
i've been killing myself
just to feel alive,
but that's not who i am
anymore.

i'll come back to you
from the ashes of our past,
from the terrible things that i've done,
from the sins i still need to atone for,
from the blood of your sacrifice,
from the steps of my broken home;
from the pain that i've caused,
from the darkness inside my heart,
from the madness that shattered my core,
from the wreckage of our past,
from the terrible things that i've done,
from the sins i still need to atone for.

my lips are cold,
but i still feel it burning,
the aftertaste of words
i didn't say.
i wish i knew
how to explain
this restless, hungry yearning
to be somebody's lover
for a day.

i would never hurt you
on purpose,
but i'm not too good
at repenting,
hopelessly entranced
by this poison.
if you still can love me,
please,
love me.
but if you must hate me,
then hate me.

i've been living my life
like fulfilling a sentence.
i guess i've been waiting
for someone to save me,
but they never came around.
i have buried myself in the ground
while i was still breathing,
i have punished myself
for the lack of resilience,
i've torn my reflection to pieces
and tried to forget my own name.
i've been waiting for someone to say
that today is the day,
now you know what to do.
i've been wandering, lost,
confused and without a purpose.
i have wished for this life to end
when it left me so hopeless,
when i had no more faith
to hold on to;
i guess now it makes sense.
i've been living my life
like fulfilling a sentence,
so long i've been waiting
for someone to save me;
now i choose to save myself.

i would take a pill
if it really helped,
i would take a handful
if it was the end.
i don't want to wake up
in an empty room,
i don't want to waste it
if it comes too soon.
i don't want to stay here
for another day,
i don't want to chase it
as it slips away.
i would take a pill
if it really helped,
i would take them all
if it was the end.

i want someone to hold me together,
i want someone to say it's alright.
i want someone to promise
that i won't be abandoned,
i want someone to stay,
help me get through the night.
i want someone to tell me i'm loved
for a million reasons,
i want someone to see i'm in pain,
let them rush to my side,
i want someone to know how it feels
when your mind is a prison.
i want someone to hold me together,
i want someone to keep me alive.
i want someone to wait down below
if i slip off the edge,
i want someone to bring me the keys
when i'm locked in a cage.
i want someone to help me get better,
i want someone to say it's alright,
i want someone to promise
that they'll stay by my side
through it all,
no matter what happens.
i want someone to care,
i want someone to want me,
i want someone to show me
what it's like to be loved.

i keep on getting caught up
in your all-knowing misery;
i don't want to be here,
i don't belong here,
and i can't make you happy
the way you imagined.
there's always someone else
to keep you entertained,
someone to compromise,
but i'm not that person,
not anymore,
not for a lifetime,
not even just for one night.
i keep on getting caught up
in your all-knowing misery;
i don't want a second chance,
i won't take a leap of faith.
and i can't make you love me
the way i deserve,
but you won't turn it against me,
not if i put myself first,
and we both know it's not my fault
that it's over.
there's no starting again,
no turning back the time,
not anymore,
not in this life,
not even just for one night.

in the early hours of dawn
everything is pure,
every day starts anew,
every person is born again,
everyone gets a clean slate
and the sins of our past
are all washed away.
i wish i could hold this moment,
make the sunrise last forever,
so that we never have to face
the pain again.
in the early hours of dawn
everything is pure,
everyone gets a clean slate
and the sins of our past
are all washed away.

i'm endlessly falling in love
with ideas and concepts,
so wonderfully impossible,
so delicately crafted
inside my mind.
i fall in love with strangers
who walk by,
with lonely phantoms
in the subway,
with shadows
in the streetlights,
with nonexistent stories,
with lives that aren't mine;
with every single thing
that i can't have,
because if i can't have it,
it won't hurt me,
and that's what really matters
down the line.
i'm endlessly falling in love
with dreams and delusions,
so perfectly impossible,
a collection
of parallel universes
inside my head;
and as long as it's not real
it should keep me safe
from falling apart,
as long as it's not real
it can't break my heart.

your laughter's still alive on tape,
your room's a shrine,
our home - a prison.
i keep on planning my escape,
but when i do, it feels like treason.
dust settles down inside my lungs,
can't bring myself to change a thing.
it always takes me by surprise
when i come back and you're not here.
your footsteps linger in the halls,
your touch is felt through every surface.
your life is spread across the walls,
your shadow waits behind the curtains.
your voice is still alive on tape,
your room's a shrine,
our home - a prison.
i keep on planning my escape,
but when i do, it feels like treason.

i don't want to be loud,
so instead
i dig another hole
inside myself
and bury everything.
every tear,
every word unsaid,
every mistake,
every departure
and every arrival,
every belated goodbye,
every unwrapped present,
every argument
and every silent gaze,
every smile,
every embrace,
every warm touch,
every cold night.
i bury it all
as deep as i can,
out of sight,
and then i move on.
my body is not a temple,
but a haunted graveyard,
where bitterness grows,
where regrets bloom
in the dark.

i'm sorry if my love is such a burden,
i'm sorry if it's such a waste of time.
i'm sorry if my mind,
can't work the way you want it,
i'm sorry that i didn't learn to lie.
i'm sorry you were never truly mine,
i'm sorry that my heart
can't work the way you want it.
i'm sorry it was such a waste of time,
i'm sorry that my love was such a burden.

i'm afraid i'll forget.
if i don't remind myself
who i am,
if i don't talk to people,
if i don't say my name,
i'm afraid i'll forget it.
i'm afraid i'll end up empty,
unknown,
lost in the ocean of faces
that i don't remember.
if i don't hear my name,
if i don't write it down
for a million times,
in a thousand of different ways,
i'm afraid i'll forget
who i am,
i'm afraid i'll end up all alone.

your gods are weak,
your gods are silent,
your gods don't speak to you
when all you need
is someone to confide in.
your gods are wrong,
your gods are violent,
your gods ignite the fire of war
and never tell you what to do
with all this rage inside your bones;
the fire seems so very holy
unless it's you they choose to burn.
your gods pretend,
your gods play games,
your gods don't walk around
among this land
of misery and death.
your gods know best,
your gods keep quiet,
your gods don't speak to you
when all you need
is someone to confide in.
and when you're on your own,
when all the hope is lost,
do they look down at you,
your everloving gods?

i can't breathe without you,
i can't think without you,
i can't feel without you,
stranded on my own.
breathing hurts my lungs,
thoughts in disarray,
every day is bleak,
knowing that you're gone.
i can't love again,
i can't hope again,
i can't dream again,
all i want is you.
with a heavy heart,
stripped of all my faith,
every wish i have
brings me back to you.
and i tried to pray,
and i tried to drink,
and i tried to wait,
but you don't return.
so i take the time,
it takes all my strength,
learning how to live.
god, it's been so long
since i slept without you,
since i talked without you,
since i saw without you,
stranded on my own.
breathing hurts my lungs,
thoughts in disarray,
but i'm still alive
even though you're gone.

in a world that's hellbent on division
you might just be my flavour of strange;
and if love is a war,
you can have my allegiance.
if we we burn, we burn bright;
if we die, then we die
holding hands at the edge.
like two planets on course for collision,
we trade endless stagnation for change;
and whatever the cost,
we're not bound by the limits.
if we live, we live now;
if we die, then we die
holding hands at the edge.

i don't believe we've met before,
it brings no pleasure to pretend.
i knew the person that you were,
but now i see there's nothing left
for you to say, for me to change,
like stitching holes inside a dream.
sometimes your home feels like a cage,
sometimes the silence sets you free.
i don't believe we've met before,
but every story has an end.
i loved the person that you were,
but now i know there's nothing left.

there are no compliments
without lies,
like there's no warmth
inside your eyes.
when every laughter's fake
and every smile is sad,
there is no joy in killing
what's already dead.
and if i tried too hard
to make you understand,
it's for a reason
that i can't explain.
and time adds up,
one day
upon another day,
an endless pile of misery
and discontinued hopes.
how i pretend
i've never truly felt alone,
how we erase the meaning
behind every word.
my mind is haunted,
there is no way out.
if you don't care that much
about what happens now,
there's nothing left to say,
there's no one else to call.
if you no longer want me,
could you let me go?

i will wait for a lifetime or more,
i will use every ounce of my strength,
i will pull you away from the edge
when you're no longer able to carry
the weight of the world in your hands;
i will stay for as long as it takes.
i will breathe for us both,
i'll keep faith for us both;
i will wait for a lifetime or more,
and i hope you remember my face.
i will sing you to sleep,
i will shelter your dreams,
i'll keep all of the sadness away.
i will be at your side every time
when you reach out to hold my hand;
i will pray for us both,
i'll keep faith for us both,
i will wait for a lifetime and more.

i've been slipping into your skin;
what can i do when you expect
so much of me?
when you are all i want to be?
when i don't feel myself
whenever you're around?
and every cell inside my body screams
that you're the only one
i'll ever need,
and, piece by piece,
i'm losing more and more of me
just to get close to you.
i've been slipping into your life,
your heart,
your world,
tasting your touch.
what would it like to be you
just for a moment?
just for once?
i wish i could be good enough
to play the part you wrote for us;
i can't be me, and yet
i can't be you.
what can i do when you don't like
the way i am
when i'm not trying to please you?
what can i do when you expect
so much of me?
and you are all i want to be,
but even if i lay my life
down at your feet,
all that you'll ever love is you,
all that i'll ever be is me.

whenever alone
i can't help but wonder
if i've ever been happy,
or maybe all of those moments
that vanished so easily,
sunken in the waters of time,
maybe they never existed.
because all i remember is sadness,
everything that aches,
every single mistake.
why is it only pain that lingers?
why won't the heartbreak
ever fade away?
i'm losing my grip on what's real,
can't tell truth from the lies
and right from wrong;
as soon as the moment is gone,
it feels like it never existed.
and i can't help but wonder,
whenever alone,
if i've ever been happy
or maybe none of it was real
to begin with,
just a trick of the mind.
maybe sadness is all there is,
all that has always been,
all that can ever be.

i dream of setting things on fire
and watching as they turn to ash;
like lovers, tempted by desire,
surrender to the call of flesh.

some flames can never be extinguished,
some marks pierce skin right to the bone.
some pyres are better left unfinished,
some prayers make you feel alone.

but when the blazes take you higher,
the sky grows crimson in a flash.
i dream of setting things on fire
and watching as they turn to ash.

when the fire is bright
it leaves burns on your hands,
it takes scars and paints over
in warm strokes of red;
and it keeps you alive
while you keep it alight.
it's a matter of time
before you run out
of things you could feed it;
as much as you need it,
all fires are meant to die.
it turns pain into heat
and makes you feel loved,
but it keeps you alive
only as long
as you keep it alight.
when it burns from the inside,
it's so easy to lose your mind
when the fire is bright.

i don't want to be seen,
feel my touch on your cheek;
i don't want to be seen at all,
but the razors are sharp
and the curtains are drawn.
i don't want to be seen
lying down on the floor.
if you hold me, i'll break,
if you kiss me, i'll know;
but the panic runs through,
spinning out of control.
i don't want to be seen,
but my thoughts drown in ink
and the pages are torn.
i don't want to be seen,
feel my touch on your cheek;
i don't want to be seen at all.

do you remember the person
that you were
five years ago?
ten years ago?
do you think they were better
at living your life?
would they hold your hand now
or push you off the edge
of your endless agony,
that all-consuming sadness
that's eating away at your mind?
would they take a picture
or just walk by?
do you still wish to go back,
catch up with all the lost time
and make things right?
you're the only version of yourself
that's available
right here and right now,
and did you ever consider
that it's for the best?
maybe past belongs in the past,
maybe you're happier without it.
everything looks more appealing
through the lens
of nostalgia,
but if you remember the person
that you were
five, ten years ago,
do you still think they were better
at living your life?
or are you finally ready
to make it yours?

can't you see this house is empty?
can't you see i've given up?
can you fill this void
with something else
'cause i'm all out of love?
and the walls are crumbling down,
and the ceiling is on fire,
and the only reason we're still here
is because you'd rather lie
than admit that we're unhappy,
but i think it's time to stop.
can't you see this house is empty?
can't you see i've given up?