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.

you said that i'm wasting my time
on things that don't matter.
well, i'd rather be wasteful
than lonely.
the road to self-preservation
takes a lifetime and a half,
but on my third attempt
i think i'm finally getting
the hang of it.
and instead of shrinking in size
after every unpleasant comment
that makes no difference at all,
i expand into every direction
until there's no room to grow,
then a little bit more
afterwards.
and wouldn't you like to know
what i'm about to become,
wouldn't you want
to see me now?
well, i'm sorry for wasting your time,
but i'd rather be wasteful
than spend it
on trying to please
you.

i love you,
and the threads of passion
burn around my neck.
a fire that i can't put out,
a sin that i could never pray away.
i love you,
and it feels like a rising tide
inside my lungs,
but with my last remaining breath
i whisper it all the same.
i love you,
and i'm hopelessly locked between
midnight and sunrise.
a darkness that tempts me,
a light that won't let me be.
i love you,
and you're all i have left to want,
all that i ever wished for.
by the finish line, at the edge of the world,
you will be the first
and the last thing that i see.
i love you.

passion, tangled in disdain;
dreams, collapsing in desire;
nightmares, every one's the same,
burning in the holy fire.

lovers, bleeding at the cross;
arms, connected by a whisper;
visions, pulling them so close
as he draws the veil to kiss her.

couples, stumbling down the stairs;
vows, to be engraved in marble.
where he goes, there's always death;
where she goes, there's always trouble.

promise, bound by the pain;
truth, but everyone's a liar;
passion, tangled in disdain,
burning in the holy fire.

you don't have to fight,
there's no justice to be found,
it's all been spent on wars
they couldn't win.
and if you tear down the sky,
is it divinity you seek?
when there's no god above,
the ground shifts beneath your feet;
you take a leap of faith,
but faith is on a leave.
you don't have to give up,
but there's a truce in the works.
be careful choosing the side,
the war they've lost
is now yours.

things go missing,
lost somewhere between
then and now.
and the rest is history,
and all that you can do is try
to outrun the rising tide.
oh, to be carried away,
to be buried in your own garden.
if you cling to the things
you can't change,
that's the first mistake.
but the rest is already swallowed,
swept by the rising tide.
things go missing,
lost somewhere between
you and i,
reshaping history,
rewriting time
all the time.

her smile has a sharp edge,
like a knife through his chest.
and the cut's getting deeper
as he tries to get closer,
but she keeps him
at an arm's length.

there's a chance of falling apart,
but instead he's falling in love.
the more she draws back,
the more sacrifices he makes
to be worthy of her grace,
to finally conquer her heart.

her laughter has no end,
like a sunset wrapped mist.
and the fog is getting thicker
as he tries not to get lost,
as he never wants to be found,
dying to stay like this.
chained with weightless ropes,
always by her side,
when the torture is most welcome
and the suffering is pure bliss.

love,
stay a little longer,
don't run away
so fast.
love,
will you make me beg
for it?
down on my knees
i will fall,
i will fall for you
over and over
again.
and i will hold you
in my arms
before you fade away,
before you dispapear
forever.
and i will whisper
your name
all my life,
i will pray for you.
i will pray for you
to be safe.
please,
love,
stay a little longer,
don't go
where i can't find you,
don't run away,
so far away.
love,
will you make me beg
for it?
down on my knees
i will fall,
i will fall for you
over and over
again.

i don't watch the dawn now,
i don't reach for the cusp
through which two become one,
where future turns into past.
and your love felt so heavy
when you placed it in my hands,
but i would carry it forever
if i could carry it forever.
i don't count the stars now,
i don't reach for the divide.
tell me, is it mine now,
the darkest hour before the light?
and your heart felt so heavy
when you put it in my hands,
but i would carry it forever;
i couldn't carry it forever.

if he was so eager to get her,
he'd be there by now.
he'd run in the middle of streets,
throw himself under cars.
or maybe just hurry a bit;
not a casual stroll,
not a regular walk.
he certainly would've rushed there,
not to fight, but to talk.
he'd jump in a taxi
or catch the last train to her town.
if he was so eager to love her,
he'd already be there
by now.

they're all the same.
always asking
the same questions,
wondering if you're okay,
terrified of hearing the truth.
how are you supposed to explain
that you take the pills,
and you do the talking,
and you try so hard
just to keep the waves
from crashing ashore,
but it just doesn't work
anymore?
is it too late to choose
the opposite door?
will they let you give up?

god, it's always the same.
answering the same questions,
digging holes in your skin,
a crawling that never stops,
an itch that cuts through the bone.
and when you're alone,
forever and ever,
it's such a dreadfully long time.
is it too late to surrender,
walk away from the fight?
if living no longer makes you
feel alive,
is it time to quit?
will they let you give up?

i'm embraced by the tides
as they crash
and spill out of my veins.
i don't think that you're kind
just because you don't ask me
to leave.
i've been following lines,
tracing back
to the dreams that we chased.
i don't think that you're mine
just because you have taught me
to grieve.

and the cruelty's patient,
and the future's all run out of hope.
and it's harder to choose
your own death
than to do what you're told.
i handpicked all my demons
and cut out all my personal space.
i'm embraced by the tides
as they crash
and spill out of my veins.

it's not my heart
inside your hands,
it's not the sky
that bleeds with rain.
it's not the tears
that fill a glass,
it's not the wine
that leaves a stain.
it's not my love
that lay so still
when you came home
the other day.
it's not the gaps
between the words
you didn't hear,
i couldn't say.
it's not the end
that makes it stop,
it's not the time
that takes the pain.
it's not the tears
that fill a glass,
it's not the wine
that leaves a stain.

i'm not sad enough
to talk about it
with strangers,
not desperate enough
to take a step forward.
the rooftops are locked,
the bridges too crowded,
the pills, i've already taken enough
to have died a hundred times.
i think i'm immune now.
the whispers, they lie.
i'm stuck in a mirror,
i'm trapped in this life
that doesn't reflect who i am,
and it looks all the same
on the outside.
i'm not mad enough
to shatter my thoughts
on the pavement,
not desperate enough
to lie in the water
and watch it turn red.
the future is fading,
the past is uncertain,
don't know if i even
remember it right,
can't trust my own mind.
it's time to let go,
to stay or to say goodbye.
whatever i choose,
it all looks the same
on the outside.

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.

we're all made of regrets
and sharp edges,
dancing alone in the dark.
what a disgrace it is to know
that we're never truly happy
unless we're being betrayed
by someone we love.
and someone we loved
was a sinner,
and all that we want
is a drink and a bullet
to swallow.
whatever the weapon of choice,
the means don't mean much
as long as the end
is the same.
this life might just be a mistake
or a shared disappointment,
a high with an endless low.
and what a relief it is to know
that we weren't meant
to be happy,
all made of scars on our wrists
and sharp edges,
dancing alone in the dark.

it's been a pleasure knowing you,
the side of you that you chose to share.
it's not even a millionth part
of the universe inside of you,
but i've never gotten so close
to touching space.
every comet of thought,
rushing through the void of your mind,
every undiscovered constellation;
your depth was too vast to comprehend.
i will be forever grateful
for holding the space in my arms.
it's been a pleasure knowing you.

my sorrows will sleep
undisturbed
in your arms,
and it's more
than i ever deserved;
and if you can hold me,
you can be my whole world
for a day or a lifetime,
the choice is all yours,
as am i.

i didn't ask to join
this endless race
towards some abstract goal
that i don't even want
to achieve.
it wasn't mine to begin with,
yet here i am,
dying for it,
locked in a box
with just enough space
to breathe.
who would've thought
that this is what living
feels like?
who would've thought
that this is how we all
choose to spend
our time?
buried in our own homes,
opening more wounds
with each
passing day,
scratching down the walls,
helplessly gasping
for air,
empty on the inside.

if you want to go,
go out of the front door,
cause i'd rather be shot
in the chest
than bleed out with a knife
in my back.
there's a vacant space
between my ribs,
where my heart used to be,
but it's such an odd shape
that nothing fits in,
except for you,
but you've already found
a different place
to build a home.
so if you want to go,
go out of the front door,
cause i'd rather face
my demise
than be caught off guard.
and when i look at death,
she might have your eyes,
but at least this way
i will know for sure.

maybe our bodies
are just flesh and bones,
but they can see beauty
in chaos
and find heaven
on earth.
they can belong
to each other,
they can love
despite the pain.
nothing good
should last forever,
all the beauty
must decay.
and maybe our bodies
don't weigh as much
as our souls,
but they can hear music
in silence
and find heaven
on earth.

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.

i've been trying
for a very long time,
but i cannot catch you.
always three steps behind,
close enough to watch,
but too far away
to wrap my arms around you
and never let go.
your shadow rests on my chest,
your smell slips through my fingers,
i'm surrounded by all the things
that you so desperately clung on to,
except for one thing
that i need the most.
somewhere between desperation
and make-believe,
i have found a way
to make myself whole,
but it's just a trick for the mind,
not good enough
to fool the soul.
and i've been giving in
and giving up,
and giving it my all,
but you don't ever look back,
never offer me a chance to follow.
this chase is getting the best of me,
but i still can't catch you,
as well as stop
and finally let you go.
always three steps behind,
close enough to watch,
but too far away
to save you from the fall.

i can feel it
getting close.
empty bedrooms,
filled with ghosts,
hollow echoes,
bloodless wars;
every win
is someone's loss.
when it's torn,
i patch the holes.
when it screams,
i close the doors.
when it rains,
it always pours;
one last dance,
one hopeless cause.
i can feel it
getting close.

do you still feel my touch
or can i only leave bruises now?
if i'm the one to choose our death,
then you're the one to keep the vow.
when this love becomes too much,
if we live on as ghosts
will our bond be stronger
than it was before?
if i'm the one who let us down,
then you're the one who closed the door.

all of your insults
and all accusations
have one little fault;
it's reckless of you
to assume
that i'm still alive,
that i haven't bled out
years and years ago.
can't you see
there's a hole
where a heart
should've been?
none of your words
can hurt me
if i'm already
dead and gone;
dead and gone,
and you don't even notice.
go ahead, cut me open,
if it makes
any difference,
just to see
what i'm made of.
but all of your insults
and all accusations
have one little fault;
it's reckless of you
to assume
that i'm still alive.

i'm running out of sugar
to sweeten this pill,
running out of breath
on this racetrack for two,
running so terribly late
for your love.
you've been hiding in mirrors,
and even if it was ordered by law
to forget you,
i'd still look for your ghost
on the passenger seats
of every car.
in good morning coffee
and sweet dreams wine,
you're in ripples,
flipping my boat
upside down.
i'm running out of time,
running out of breath
on this racetrack for two,
running so terribly late
to be loved
by you.

i would love to tell you
that it gets easier,
that we won't be here forever,
that i can fix
this broken world,
find all the pieces,
put them back together,
and make it work.
i can't make it work.

i don't sleep these days,
their faces haunt my thoughts.
i can't find a way out;
my heart is still,
my blood is cold.
but even if we're in hell,
at least we're trapped here
together.
how i would love to tell you
that it gets easier,
but you know it too well;
some nightmares can last
forever.

why don't you come home?
the bed is still warm,
it's waiting for you
like a sky before the storm.
as thunder breaks it in half
i hear you saying goodbye.
you disappeared in the night,
but still, i wish i knew why,
i can't stop thinking that today
you could be here.

i can't stand being alone,
the wind will sing us to sleep.
just know, wherever you are,
i'd put my life at your feet,
i'd give whatever you want,
feel free to take everything.
i won't survive through the night.
can't you come home one more time?
the rain feels cold in my hands,
i think it's saying goodbye.

i have nothing
but what you gave me,
i've been living
the way you made me.
a collection of hopes and fears
that you put in my head.

i know nothing
but what you told me,
i've been living
the way you showed me.
please, don't be disappointed
by what i've become.

after all, it's not me
who chose this;
after all, it was you
who taught this.
everything that i've ever done
was to make you proud.
god, i hope
you're proud now.

i am at peace,
it's all i need,
me and the ocean
at my feet.
and when there's endless,
there is free,
and true,
and hopeful,
and complete.
with no horizons
to outline,
eternal beauty
to explore.
beside the ocean
i will lie
and be at peace,
there's nothing more.

i wasn't meant to love you,
and it can't be changed
by altering ourselves,
it's something else entirely.
i don't think i was made
to fill the void inside you,
wasn't designed to become
your own personal saint.
whatever you seek,
there's no absolution
to be found on my lips,
no matter how much
you want it;
there's no peace in my arms,
no future and no past
to reminisce through.
i'm sorry, but it's true;
i'm not the one you need,
i wasn't meant to love you.

i am lost.
this emptiness can't be
all there is to it.
one's hope is just as fragile
as the proof of something better
awaiting once you're done
with getting stronger.
i don't know if i am strong enough yet.
i'm not sure if i've been through enough yet.
is my suffering too little
in comparison to others
who experienced more pain,
more grief, more loss, more desperation?
am i just a broken vessel
for someone's misplaced affection?
is this emptiness all that i can create?
if it's really all there's to it
i would rather know for sure
than be constantly misled
by a non-existent cause.
i am lost.

i made a mistake,
you showed me the way out
and cut the connection
by staying behind.
never was the one to cry,
never had a shoulder to cry on.
well, maybe that's why.
i made a mistake,
let you stay on the other side.
i'm sorry,
i'm sorry,
god, i'm so sorry.
should've said goodbye,
should've stopped you,
should've done something.
i don't know how to cry anymore,
no, not anymore.

the sun is only there
to keep us warm,
but should it die
we still can save each other.
and if the cord
that's holding us
is torn,
we'll find another.

the wreckage of our world,
it dreams of stars,
but as we bring them close,
they push us farther.
and if this sun
should die
before our eyes,
we'll find another.

one let down after another,
i'll dig out my own
eternal peace.
and if you want to help,
please,
just give me a hand
or leave me alone.
i'll willingly surrender,
lay my youth to waste,
put it, piece by piece,
on the doorstep
of every single place
that i've ever been
kicked out of.
and i can't slow down,
because if i do,
when the time comes
i will not be able
to let myself go.
one small tragedy after another,
an unwritten letter
with a goodbye kiss.
and if you want to help,
please,
just put an end to it
or leave me alone.

why don't you ever
say it as it is?
pull down the curtains,
let the light shine through.
why don't you close your eyes,
why don't you break the kiss,
why don't you read my lips,
why don't you?
call from a different life,
tell me how good it feels,
that you just realized
there wasn't much to miss
without me by your side,
not very hard at all.
it must be pretty great,
but what do i really know?
why don't you ever
say it as it is?
pull down the curtains,
let the light shine through.
why don't you wake me up,
why don't you make up your mind,
why don't you break my heart?
why don't you?

it's a beautiful sentiment,
loving someone
who doesn't love you back,
indulging this perfect lie.
a kaleidoscope of doubt
swirling in my head,
day after day
and night after night.
whenever you're away
i can't help but imagine
somebody else by your side.
it's an intricate ritual,
saying what you want
to hear,
laughing at your jokes,
fading into background
when you're near
and dying when you're gone.
i wish i knew how to quit,
gather my things
and walk out of the door.
sometimes i wonder
why i keep doing this
to myself,
but there isn't one answer
when love
is endlessly bound
with pain,
and hurting myself
is the only way
to ensure
your return.
it's a beautiful sentiment,
loving someone
who doesn't love you back,
faithfully waiting by the door,
day after day
and night after night,
indulging this perfect lie.

i have a yearning
in my bones,
a restless,
all-consuming
hunger
to be my own,
instead of yours,
to break the grip
that keeps me under.
and if the line
is drawn too close,
the lack of air
does make
me wonder.
it burns like fire
in my bones,
this restless,
all-consuming
hunger.

i think i might be dying,
one rejection at a time.
one compromise,
one vacant gaze,
one "yes, of course i'm fine."
i think i might be dying
and i really don't know why,
but every time i talk
it feels like bleeding out
my thoughts.
i think i might be dying,
one confession at a time,
or being a placeholder
for the love
of someone's life.
i think there's something
very wrong
with workings of my mind.
i think i might be dying.
i think i'm tired of trying,
one breakdown at a time.

it's the art of being ****** up,
the testament to sleepless nights,
reading horror stories in the attic,
and almost falling down the stairs
a few times.

it's a promise to never forget
what it feels like to be alone in the dark
at 4 am stealing moonlight kisses
through distorted reflections
of a window glass.

it's a moment to moment race
towards the end that's never the end,
but a beginning of a different life,
and the life that you choose for yourself
never really dies.

it's the art of being ****** up,
the testament to sleepless nights,
talking to ghosts in the attic,
and almost falling down the stairs
a few times.

i feel like a fool
that you drove, blindfolded,
to a cliff in the middle of nowhere,
and asked
if i was going to step forward,
disappointed by my hesitation,
yet holding me back
with your cold hands.
and if i told you i knew
from the start
where we were going,
you'd probably leave me there
on my own.
but i feel like a fool,
a fool that loves you,
who'd take a long flight
over a short drive.
you asked
if i was going to step forward,
and the answer is
yes.

i woke up this morning
nostalgic for something
that never was,
but you kissed me once in a dream
and i can't stop thinking about it.
if false comfort is all that i have now,
i'll trade it for just one more chance
to be yours.
don't want to wake up every morning
nostalgic for something
that never was.

it's a feeling that hits you
in the back
like the firmness
of a stranger's handshake.
it's you.
it was always going to be you.
cold fingers beg
for some warmth,
and knees melt
at the very thought
of letting this one go.
and the temples pulse
in unison,
synchronized heartbeat
of the drums.
it's a feeling that hides
around the corner,
like the drunken haziness
of your mind.
it's you.
it was always going to be you.

i'll put some flowers on your grave
and watch the moss grow from your bones.
sometimes it's easier to stay,
you always lived the life you chose.
you always left without goodbyes
and thought that less was saying more.
i wish to join you when i die,
but you won't wait for me, i'm sure.
and if you've already moved on,
i'll write a poem in your name,
and watch the moss grow from your bones
when i put flowers on your grave.

ideals, built on misconceptions,
an oath, extended by the fall.
between destruction and obsession,
this world could never made you whole.

and as you move in wrong directions,
one expectation at a time,
you come to see their true intentions
and every lie between the lines.

the endless strife towards perfection,
it barely mattered much at all.
between destruction and obsession,
this world could never make you whole.

she faded in people
that she had known,
vanished within them
without a trace.
and being asked
of who she's become,
she smiles and says
she no longer exists.
it's all of them
that carry her heart,
dispersed and shared,
but never replaced.
she faded in people
that she had loved,
vanished within them
without a trace.