Just a passenger.

The sound of wheels turning
squeaking, rattling
like a praying snake.
The voices of all the people crawling on my skin
i could sense their wanting sight
but the train goes on…

There isn’t any destination for me, really,
alone means alone whenever i go

they all want to be me
the calm and collected me,
the achieved and authoritive me,
but their eyes cannot see the other side
it’s full of darkness and sorrow
dark as this night

so i have my pen and paper
and i write down their souless shells
i like watching in their empty eyes
seeing their broken dreams and desires
unshared love
lust for money
desperation for drugs…

i laugh at them all
pathetic.

A thunder crashes outside as i note the grey voices,
i give them names as well

The forever blind for kindness
The empathy empty
The burnt from love
The living dead

boring but fitting they definitely are

We stop at another station
nothing changed
those who got off were replaced by new ones
and the train goes on…

i sip from my wine
cheap and sour like my soul
i hide it in the cloak of the night
but when a lightning lights the sky
it showed
and they all flinch
truly unaware
because they all saw
they looked into a soul much more sinister than their own
the train came to a stop.

Sea paradise

Let’s sail away, honey
to reach the far end of the world
where no land is seen
and the mermaids make us seashell crowns
we could be a king and queen
of this little paradise
the wind would sing our wedding march
we would free Calypso of her tainted love
and take her blessing as a gift
no one would reach us here, dear
remember when we helped the Kraken?
yes, he is here now as well
to guard us of the envy
with a thousand pearls in our feet
we would kiss underneath the smile of Alectrona
and after we grow old together
don’t be scared, love
we would sail to Charybdis
and into his whirlpool
to have our final feast with the sirens

Control.

There is something so good
about the pain you choose to feel
the one you ask for.

You want to stop hurting
in your heart
soul
every single cell.
You can’t control this pain.
It’s like trying to catch a tornado in a jar
waves in a fist
love in a picture
fire in a vacuum.
You can’t stop the oceans falling from your eyes
nor the flakes of ashes peeling from your mind.

But you can choose to feel this other pain.

The one you can control.
You go out there
cry out loud until your throat is sore
bash through the stone-cold walls until you break
draw with tattoo needles on your skin
until you numb the throbbing deep inside.
This pain is soothing
keeps the thoughts away
this one you control
you set the pace
and place of meeting
like old friends
and you cling to that.

cigarettes and whiskey.

why does the grass fold beneath the force of wind
is it fair for the waves to crush the rocks into thousands of pieces
does the sun have to set fire to forests
is it necessary for earth to devour acres of living things
why do volcanos kill islands
is it fair for icebergs to drown ships
is it necessary for hunters to hunt

i take a sip of the whiskey
and sigh

the sky is dark
the moon is gone

another sip
and i kill
killing my soul
i just can’t figure out why does everything hurt
i light up a cigarette
i killed the last one
put it with the others
used up
dead
like people

the stars are dim

another bottle is gone
i keep suffocation this soul of mine
i have been watching it break
by the hand of these dead people
every
single
day

the trees are restless
no birds are singing tonight

another cigarette

i had decided
enough is enough
i’d rather kill it myself
alone
piece by piece
scar it
drown it
scorch it
alone
in the dark
so that they cannot see

they are already dead

as am i.

Going away.

Mars is good.
I should move there.
No traffic
no burnt milk in my coffee
no queues for the bakery.
I wouldn’t have to cut corners to rush for work,
because walls wouldn’t exist there, just air.
I wonder whether I could get rid of the mental blocks as well.
There would be no one to watch me,
so I wouldn’t need all these expensive clothes.
I could write my own books with a stick in the sand
the next day they would be carried away by the wind
and I could start over
fix what needed fixing.
Just like my life.
There would be no clock to pull me away from my dreams
so mornings would be as long as I need them to be.
I would make a home in different caves every now and then
for free.
If I tripped and fell
I could stay down for a while
and that would be okay.
Yes, maybe I should move.

Ocean and freedom.

I went to the same park we used to hang out.
Sat on the bench we used to make out.
Observed the same ocean we used to admire.
Because after all,
we both exist under the same sky
we both wish upon the same stars
we both breathe the same air.
It was enough for me that you existed under my sun.
You know, I wasn’t waiting for you to show up.
No.
I was waiting for my emotions.
To feel my heart in my throat,
hear the world quieting down,
feel the goosebumps on my skin,
lose track of time and space,
just like before.
And nothing happened.
I wanted
and waited.
All I felt was emptiness and freezing cold.
You
are
just
gone.
It would be silly to say that at this point I smiled.
But I really did.
Now, this IS freedom.

A cup of betrayal.

Betrayal hits suddenly. You never know the direction of the attack. Where? Not the heart again, please, spare that if you ever loved me. Poke my eyes out so I can never see your face again. Take my ears just to keep me from ever hearing your voice again. Rip out my vocal cords so I can never tell you how much I miss you again. Peel off my skin and set my body on fire to keep me from feeling your hand in mine. Cut off my limbs because I can’t stop myself from reaching out to you. Please, take my brain away so I am no longer able to remember you. Just not the heart. It might be broken but it’s the only real thing in my life. It never lies, you see, it has no voice. It only points me a direction, though, not with words and body, but with emotions. They are true. You have deceived all of my other senses, but this one. My thoughts may scream at me to run but my heart keeps telling me there is more to the story. You can’t have pretended all of this time, some of it must have been real, right? I keep overthinking all of this. TAKE IT!
Take my thoughts away.
Crush me.
Tear me apart.
Beat me until I am unconscious.
Everything is better than this. I can’t stop myself from craving your presence. I am unable to carve out the dreams of us being back on good terms. It’s impossible to stop checking if you are okay.
TAKE IT ALL AWAY.
But you won’t, will you?
It would be an act of mercy. You have none of that to give away. You never laugh, you only smile. Laugh is a privilege only for your cat. Your tears are reserved for yourself since the only person you trust is none other than the image in the mirror. I remember every second with you. Every glimpse of darkness battling the light. I remember seeing the doubt in your eyes, as you were afraid to believe another human being. So you closed up like a ghost in a shell, thinking you were safe as the terrors started creeping through your translucent self. So I hope, that even after all this time the war is yet to be decided. Maybe it is not too late to call.
Ah, pathetic. Indeed, hope is what kills us in the end.
A cup of betrayal in the morning, sweetened with hope and served with nostalgia.

Unbudging.

The minutes stretched into years.
The words we said turned from burning logs into ashes.
Those ashes were splashed over the waves,
blown amongst the mountains,
flown to the atmosphere,
breathed by thousands of people,
And they forgot.
So why shouldn’t we?
Pride burns through our brains,
it sides with delusion and revenge,
clouding our judgment with the blackest tar.
But it never really reaches the heart, does it?
The heart remembers.
Oh, and it always hurts.
Even if at the moment you can’t explain the pain,
you feel it just like me.
Then when you go to bed desperately trying to keep the memories at bay,
but a glimpse of the ache flashes
and
you
know.
You feel what I feel.
You cry when I cry.
Our relationship was like stainless steel,
never corroding.
But we melted it down a piece at a time.
We crafted shields at first
to keep us safe from invisible yet threats.
Being afraid to lower the defense,
swords were forged next.
Hacking through the shields wouldn’t do,
neither was stronger so we continued down the road.
Grenades,
pistols
machine guns,
bombs,
traps.
Yet the odds were even.
The material was not one to budge and that was our undoing,
love never gives up.
That could be our blessing if we were to reach for one another.
Forgive me, so I can forgive myself.

The fight for dreams.

As deep as the ocean,
my cage is thick with the darkness.
I cannot escape.
I keep trying to run away
but I crash into the wall of despair.
The harder I try –
the more it tightens around my throat.
I cannot breathe.
The number of heartbeats is limited,
but the tears – countless.
I cannot move.
A path of seashells is leading to my prison,
covered with the blood of my dreams.
I cannot sleep.
The battle of the Titans is simple –
anxiety versus determination.
Who wins?
The beasts inside are gnawing at my sanity,
ripping the thin walls of confidence.
Can I move the mountains of despair?
Can I swim through the ocean of self-loathing?
Can I outrun the crowd of wrongdoers?
I don’t know.
But I will try.

A belgian chocolate filled with love, please.

I see smoke rising far above the snow,
as a guideline for the lost, I follow.
Every step I make grows a little stronger.
Every breath I take becomes deeper.
The cold feels like just an old friend.

We stumbled upon each other on a white December night,
when I dreamily enough crossed your steady way.
Your eyes were fixed on my uneven tie,
moving to the untrimmed beard
and stopped at my pillow hair.

I confess, I got lost in your presence,
busy trying to remember every curl in your hair,
each line of your face,
all the molten chocolate shades in your eyes,
the shape of your lips,
how well the blue of your coat made a contrast with your hair.

The thought of you, my love,
drove me back from the gates of the place,
where good and bad twist,
to evaluate the soul.

As your lips leave stains of warmth on mine,
my heart devours the notes of your pulse,
refining them into a song for two.

It tells a story about the ocean and the sky,
since the beginning of time,
until the dawn of light,
together they stand,
unshaken by trouble,
perpetual remedy for all.

With my eyes closed I feel the last notes going down my spine.
But there is something wrong,
the taste of your chocolate lips is gone.

Suddenly, I look around.
Everything is white with death.
The smoke of your cup is just my dying breath,
even the last memories of your red lips are extinguished,
as they were just the colors of the setting sun, drown away by the moon,
and the sky looking like an endless sea of knowledge,
reminiscing your eyes.

Mon ami,
I wish you knew how much I cherished that afternoon with a scent of certain love coming off your Belgian chocolate cup.

To Inna.