The realms of day and night splice in front of me. Rubbernecker, you know me well enough to understand that I postpone the transition every evening as long as physically possible. I forbid my eyes to see that which I do not believe in. I forbid my mind to tell stories. I forbid myself to accept that there are things I have to deal with. Do you forbid this too? Was that you, the young man in my dreams last night, who stood next to me and saw that the mountain we had climbed together was incredibly steep and still chose to jump, instead of descending slowly, with me? Why do you not want to descend slowly with me, Rubbernecker? Why does death come after me at night? I could hear the matt smack with which the young man hit a flank. Then I looked up and the blue stared back, emptiness invaded me. I feel invaded. Is death another word for closure? Am I running away from closure? Rubbernecker, do you want to throw yourself of the mountain and close off the blue sky to me?

This last night I dreamt of clouds of yellow and gold and it was all so beautiful. I hope you can encounter such an intense feeling of luck once too, that your heart in your ribcage rises up and thrashes and politely asks to be released for a while. Then conserve your heart, Rubbernecker. You will need it again. I hope you can see clearly then, the person you can share your luck with. I tried to cup his face in both of my hands, but it melted and reshaped continuously. In the end I gave up. Now I remain here alone, with all of my luck. Do you know the metaphor, of the tube that harbours a whole lot of toothpaste and you should handle it carefully, because if you squeeze too harshly... Now I remain here alone, with all of my toothpaste. I put a bowl in the living room, filled with peaches. Now the entire house smells sweet. Most of all, I learnt that all things only progress: no scent without peach, no dream without young man. Sometimes I feel frozen, then I remember Time does not care about the feelings of a confused human, which is only a tiny ant towards the giant Time. Still, that ant is capable of carrying about ten times its own misery on top of back problems and sour shoulders. Rubbernecker, do you want to come and smell just how sweet it is, here with me?

This night was pounding chaos. This night fell on me, did not swirl calmly anymore. There the young man of my dreams was once again, under his trustworthy pine tree. Again, sprouted in time, he stood there, his dark curls crowned with pine prickles. His top smelling softly, of manliness, and he reached out upwards with the same sense of pride as the tree under which he stood rusted. This Narcissus knew where he could flee to. My presence threatened to wipe out his colours. While his eyes grew darker, nearing black, I beheld the forest behind him, that faded out as well. Night fell and i was in company of the prince of night. I wondered whether I could finally meet him and came nearer, like I had done before. I was mistaken once again; the prince of night became a pilot and took off and I was rooted like a tree, staring at the empty bark in front of me. Can I ever finally meet him? The more time grows in between him and me, the more I rust in the places I know. And this continuously: the freedom that lures me in, but I cannot move, I am rooted and cannot persevere, I can only sink lower or cry silently where I stand.

I have not yet told you about my forest. Being an inhabitant of the city myself, I am continuously surprised of the frequency with which nature comes looking for me while I sleep. In a more reasonable scenario, it is in fact myself that looks for nature, but then I would have to admit that I am lacking something in the city and I drown myself in pride far too often to admit that. That forest is not complete either way, every colour is beyond salvation, the black and white ferns wave at me, wearily. I too am not complete, my hands wave and mow, but my vision fails me. I do not have control, I am merely a puppet at the hands of an unknown force. I feel my existence, but cannot lead my own body anywhere. I stand wearily in black and white. Then colour flutters into my dream. A fiery red dress flutters around the fragile body of a young woman. She dares skipping frolicking and young in between the dark basks. I vaguely remember a deer and the fiery red in a previous dream. I panic, though too late. My gear is aimed at her too. If red was alive, it would be the colour I felt most sorry for. Dear Red, I regret. I lift my gun and hunt the young woman down.

Tongue twisted,
Stomach shifted,
Brain's a mess
With all this stress.
Fighting for words,
My mind can't procure
A single thought that reads: sane.
For my patience, I've had to re-train
The thought process that you evoke,
so I must restrain..
The anger, the frustration and confusion
Of these things you do and choose to be.
As if you look to others, and I'm not your only.
If I'm not enough, and leave you wanting
Others who are out there flaunting..
Then why stay with me, if you show them your interested?
If this is what I get with you,
Then stop pretending to be invested.
You say you want me,
but your actions say otherwise.
Your words only taunt me,
As I try to cover my eyes,
Seeing only what you want me to see.
Feeling how you say I should,
As you tear open my heart to bleed.

If I were going to change for the better
I’d have changed by now
The end is a wasted incentive
A new beginning is for those who believe

I’ve cashed in all my second chances
And am burning up all my passion

I’ve derived my devils into
The salvation of saliva
When our sweat is not enough wet
To anoint our ***** sacred

Let me leave here without a language
Because my idea of living for tomorrow
Is found in the stories I leave behind

You can’t be chaste and live forever

I have learned in LIFE IS FICTION 101
The endings of all stories need closure
For the reader and the character

Let me leave my legacy
In the places you are afraid to touch

Because
I’ve always been that guy who went a little too far

Let me take you a little too far
Just to the tip of forever and I’ll pull out
I promise

I may not die at the end of this year
But I will be dead someday
And the fear of being forgotten
Is enough to make me stay
And car crash my mouth again

Take a good long listen rubbernecker
And later you can tell your friends
There is this guy you met
And he said some things you’ll never forget

I mean
Really really really
Nasty things

But you liked it

I mean
I never wanted to be the best poet/storyteller/dirtytalker ever
I just wanted to be someone’s favorite
Enough to not forget me later

Because it may not be at the end of this year
But I will leave someday
And the fear that you might forget me
Is hell enough to stay