it`s never too early to forget all your lying and conniving. and it`s never too late to undo all the damage you`ve done.
odd how your deceitful gaze and your putrid, bony hands never haunt me in my sleep.
you must be wondering why I never visit. oh, but I promise I will. each and every single time I need a reminder of who I will never allow myself to grow up to be.
yesterday I sorted through the chaos that is my room and remembered how much I miss you.
you and your big brown eyes.
you and the way we would always wind back the clock in a naive attempt to trick time.
you and the tapes we made.
you and the way you always said I talked too much and too loud.
you and our huge phone bills that nobody understood when you lived right around the corner.
you and the boys we never fought over because you always won.
it hurt that you didn`t call back.
today I sorted through the chaos that is my mind and reminded myself to get ready to miss you.
you and your soft dark hair.
you and your perfect sense of humour.
you and our silences that were never uncomfortable to me.
you and the way you`d piss me off with cheap chivalry.
you and the way I never liked you for any of the reasons you said out loud.
you and the girls we never fought over because you knew I`d win.
it hurt that you didn`t feel back.
but what hurts most of all is that I still find it impossible to cry one damn tear. and what I miss most of all is the days when I used to sink my teeth deep into my lips to hold it all inside.
I am not ready for autumn. not yet.
I am not willing to say goodbye. not yet.
I am not brave enough to let the tears roll. not yet.
I
am
not
yet
me
not yet. not yet.
NOT YET!
he never got to know how much I loved the sky. I only tell that to very special people.
as long as there`s music in my ears and pedals under my feet, I`ve got freedom of the mind and body. and the smile on my face means I`m only getting younger.
holding in a cry for help: is it a sign of weakness or strength?
actually, scratch that. I just wonder why all of a sudden I care.
on my tight rope I`m only hopping from one extreme to the other because the middle is wobbly.
It`s the tears cried for all the wrong reasons
And not knowing what colour in whose paintings to be
It`s the scheduled happiness that works just as well
And all that silent disagreeing
It`s the music I would never dance to
And the hugs given away free of charge
Found a little bit more of who I`m not, which can only mean I`m getting a lot closer to who I am.
Glad as I may be, it always hurts to say goodbye to pieces of life I know I`ll never want back, and neatly tuck them away, buried in some corner of my mind – like those cheap souvenirs that just say ‘where’, not ‘why’, ‘when’, ‘what’ or ‘how’.
I love life like in a song.
Tonight, the poem I promised to write about you turned out to be about the sky instead. A broken promise seemed better than a broken poem, at the time.
Because while your eyes were shining, so were the stars. And while your pale face was glowing, so was the moon. But while the sky was mine, you never were.
So I broke my promise to you and silently read my poem to the sky. While it never smiled back, you might have..
every now and then
I`ll allow myself to feel
just faintly sad
every now and then
I`ll allow myself to be
just mildly heartbroken
every now and then
I`ll allow myself to think
just slightly bad thoughts
and every now and then
I`ll allow myself to taste
just a little bit of loneliness
