There is a wall between us
Of distance, of time, of wounds
I wish it were not there
Although I built it for my own protection
And rebuild it everyday Continue reading
I choose to write, for it may be my only path from mortality to immortality.
I sit placing my fingers on the keyboard like a blind man with a braille, entangled by the neurons of my brain ready to jet out in a telepathic voyage to distort the equilibrium of my mind.
I start to remember all the lips I have kissed, all the eyes I looked into, all the cigarettes I smoked, all the alcohol I consumed and all the other things that I dare not to say, in respect to the gentle nature of the human eardrums. A vortex inside me implodes a helix of all the years that passed by without a trace. Continue reading
The light shines through her eyes like stardust guiding the way to heaven,
She breathes to the sound of his heartbeat and everything dances in harmony when their hands clasps
She remembers how she used to be: a sweet loving girl, but now she turned into a reflection of who he is, and that made her feel safe;
If he left one day, she’ll still have him inside. Continue reading
We look at each other, but there is no fire
Our hands intertwine, but there is no bond
We talk for hours, but there is no meaning
We embrace each other, but there is no warmth
We kiss, and she doesn’t taste like you.
You wake up.
You wake up and
seek this feeling;
this… thing. Continue reading
They used to wake up the sun with gleaming above their heads, promising days of fortune. Now they wake up to glum, grey clouds that tower over their lives, closing in on them. They used to play with flowers, and now they tackle with Russian bullets. They used to play in the streets with colors painting their bleached notebooks. Now they run from collapsed boulevards into nothingness. Their home became a field in which nothing grew but the echoes of anguish, for the soil was unyielding for anything hopeful. They are word-bound. They are helpless. All they can sense is the beacon of death that arose from the weapons. Continue reading
Do not date a doctor
When you tell him “I still like you”
the first words out of his mouth will be
How much are you feeling?
When did it start? Continue reading
The contour of your skin,
The bent arches of your neck muscles
Protruding into the silence of the night.
The curvature of your cheek bones
At distorting refractions.