to read my past journal entries is
to walk on an intimately familiar path,
one in which I know the major landmarks,
the steep mountains, and the deep valleys.

even though I can walk on this path
with my eyes closed and get through,
I don't. I slow down on the way,
noticing flowers I didn't see before.

I pluck a leaf off every flower stem,
and keep it safely between my palms.
the leaves remind me of the flowers
that grew despite the harsh conditions.

whenever I wish for a new beginning,
I blow on a leaf and let it guide me.
I smile, exhale, and walk forward.
behind me, new flowers are blooming.

The light of day today
is so heavy and dream-like
Makes me feel hazy,
sweetly lazy
has a weird effect in me
It makes me feel good and wrong
funny ways that I've got

It speaks about you and me
hidden in a room, naked, nothing at all
but us. And I want to be there, I do.
Watching the world drip, in our burning embrace.
The rain washes my pain away.

It speaks about the despair I felt at 15
or maybe before even
and how the rain lifted the weight
with its oppressive pretty greys
The rain washes my pain away.

The rain lulls me into your arms
it promises a Sun.
The rain pushes me places
everything I am
or everything I've been?

I am devoured by the existence of
vintage and old fashioned crafts.
The old scents and faded letters
that will bring back a decade of dates
until I throw myself back in the history.



I savored the aroma of an old book
until I became one of its pages
While the classic cd and mixed tapes
will play a nostalgic feeling.



I am allowing myself
to be allured by the history
with its treasured memories
that will haunt you in your youth.


Years have past
but we are still here,
we are still alive
despite of the countless departures.  
Relish the taste of life while it lasts
and while you are still able.


Live, love.

If I were a poem
I'd be made of words
That only you'd understand.

Wisdom carved in stone
is lost / what we know we know
under an accumulation of moss