Oh, but you suffer
my golden one
You suffer for the scars of the future
and of the past
Oh, my fragile golden one
who fell for the silence
and the silence made you deaf
to the yells of your own
For the silence, which was dark,
the darkness within it
Oh my golden boy
you could make the pain voiceless
yet you wanted it to scratch your marble skin
and hollowed cheeks
and oh, those mournful eyes of yours
tearless after these years
of the world collapsing
right in front of them, right to your feet
Oh, my golden lover, you could had it all
and yet you’ll always itch for me
in this life or another
disastrous déjà vu, my dear
because I want the best for you
and you always choose to love me.

Every moment of my dear life
I constantly think about you;
Why would you take my breath away
every time I feel alive?
I see you there
everywhere behind my happiness;
Does it make you feel satisfied
depriving me of my bright laughter?
Does it make you fulfilled
haunting me until my nigh death?
Oh you made me watch stars again
why are there people quavering my
motionless body?
Breathe
BREATHE
I am really sad to say
I can’t

I’ve been walking down IKEA
however dull it sounds
I saw a girl
Round my age, maybe younger
With eyes as melancholic as mine
She was tapping Rachmaninov on a wooden table
with tears dripping down her hollowed face
And I shivered
Because I used to be her

I caught myself on seeking you in everything around me;
I seek you in smoke of my morning cigarettes, in every person passing my bitter, dusky windows,
I seek you in each of my cold, lifeless breaths coming out under lousy haze,
I seek you in empty rooms of our flat, alcohol smuges staining our walls,
I seek you in every flaw craved onto my skin, in every bruise adorning my body like diamonds,
I seek you in eyes of strangers, in cracked mirrors crying out hurtful truth,
I seek you within my lies, telling everyone I’m fine.
I seek you because I’m nothing without you, I can feel myself slipping away.

I believe we create constellations
Interstellar agraphum
We used to have strong faith in what we are
Yet we seem to abandon our entity
For raising our long forgotten Menchheit
We might be divine
Devilish
We might indeed wield what makes us human
But that is not truth we carry
There is a method in bearing our madness
For sake of our mothers
As well as our fathers
For sake of this ****** human kind
We are mad
cerebrosus
Beings created from golden tears of what is above
We were never meant to suffer down here
Out of love
Out of faith
With nothing but lust and melancholic swirl
Untamed feelings we used to shout out loud
Right into a void full of people but no one seemed to hear us
They knew our power we haven’t known ourselves
How destructive our dejection could turn out
For the sake of this forsaken human kind
We would die just to save strange pure soul
We are good, gracious, vain
Golden, douloureux in our fate
We are alive
But also dead
We are immortal
And afraid of being harmed
Because we’ve always been soft and tender
Capable to do terrible things
Dedicated to our pain and gore we come with
We die as we were born, scared and crying
We will be remembered
Leaving war behind our back
Moribund in place where revolution once stood
Yet passing with our eyes gold
Burning in the night stars in the sky alike
I believe we create constellations
Once we leave them
We need to get back to make universe shine with its gracefulness
Because we are great
Each of us
And every of us

Cold coffee, never litted cigarettes
People shivering at the bus stops
Thick fog, chill morning
I watch as birds race the sky
Puddles grow bigger on the pavement
Drowning dead grass stalks
We’ve got lost in everything
From lies to sincere kisses
Comforting touches to sleepless nights
I’ve lost hope
Do you think we will ever go back?
We’ve lost us

You are smoking clouds
Craving what belongs to me
I want myself back

She’s each soul of those
who slip on dark rooftops at night
Every brick of every tenement
wearing her bullet wounds like rings
on her slender pale fingers.
She has long blonde hair
golden grain alike
Always dyed dark, hidden under thy hood.
That’s how she goes
unnoticed
forever bruised
*****, beaten and hurt.
She lurks in stone archways
weeping, screaming into the night
She hasn’t slept in ages
yet she feels so restful
facing cool dank pavement.
She would kiss every sculpture in Saxon Garden
Paskuda – she calls one of them, signed so proundly – Historia
She would try to drown herself
in cold waters of her beloved river
Which saved her so many times before
that it wouldn’t even be capable
of doing anything but loving her
and her beautiful blue eyes
and the way she chokes on her memories
every single night
walking down old stone stairs
of her forsaken streets.
Non sum quails eram
says her ****** tattoo
inked with blood of her dear children
and cherished lovers.
And every other day she’d try to destroy herself
she’d rot
she’d burn
she’d cry
Because she’s reckless
yet so sophisticated
So beautiful
and so wasted.

Once again
You are conscious
Another flow of memories
Is bursting through your veins
Like painful ache of piercing knives
Awful flawlessness, overflowing perfection
Corrupting your bloodstream with agony;
Why is there blood on your hands?
Blood-soaked sleeves of your sweater
Blazing on your pale skin with crimson glow
Like redempted lovers in a land
Where death has already conquered
I cannot hear your breath
Restful beating of your heart freezes
Yet I will sheed no tears over your frigid body
My wretched ***** lover
You loathsome empty egoist
Who left me here on my own
I will not mourn your death
For it killed who I was
Or ever will be