we are all open books written in an old language
waiting for someone to come and translate
our story
our words.
be patient
the translator is coming.

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i was always an open book
just written in a dead language.
all the translators were wrong,
time and time again
until you came along.

when people are in love
they often say
they simply fell
tripped over their own two feet
face forward
and into the arms of their beloved

i did more than simply fall
onto the ground of your love

you, for me
were an ocean
and i dived
headfirst
roughly
harshly
almost painfully
into the waters of “you”

i knew i could not swim
but i did so anyway
i was drowning
entangled in you
surrounded by this being of “you”
engulfed in this feeling of “you”

and i did not know what came over me
but i let myself drown
i did not try to swim back up
because if i went back to land,
releasing myself from your grasp
that would mean losing the feeling of “you”

and after
submerging into the depth
the love
the passion
of “you”

how could i ever leave?

She was like music,
and I longed to dance.

Her heart was the beat,
and I begged for the chance.

Her words were the vocals,
and I was put in a trance.

Her smile was the melody,
and I fell in love at first glance.

why is what i'm doing not enough
so much progress but haven't touched
a single dream i had
making myself feel bad

cause i did things
a lot for me
but i'm still so far
and it breaks my heart

how much harder must i fight
when there is no end in sight
if i could have one thing for sure
that's all i ask for

I wish I was brave enough,
To tell my mum that although I love her;
I don’t think I’ll ever fully recover,
Losing my family so young was tough,
It took me a while to rise above,
But when I am a mother, God forbid,
I ever treat my children like you did,
Calling it love.

and like the tide belongs
to the moon
you are mine