Monday, December 16, 2013

When you have nothing more to give, you leave

Your ego burst into a million pieces.
 It fell like stardust.
Even though it came back up.
When my ego burst out, it was like a million needles.
I never quite healed.
                When I admit it, I don’t feel like it’s true. It’s hard for me to understand it. I feel like I brought all the walls down, or at least most of them, but logic tells me that’s not what happened.
                I tried to put everything in the context of logic. People say some things are not meant to be there. Theoretically I can understand that. I can’t apply it to my reality.
                It was a big risk that I took. But not big enough.  Not big enough for you. Maybe not big enough for the whole world. I can be proud of myself. But I can’t make you or anyone else congratulate me on something so insignificant.

The only thing I'm sure of is that I did everything I could. 

Tuesday, November 26, 2013

Boom ka-boom (Spontaneous Emotional Combustion)

I always open a Word Document (subliminal advertising), being so confident that I will somehow, today of all days, manage to express my feelings.
I never post what I write. It's not that they aren't good enough.
Not anymore at least.
It's my uncertainty. Do I want the world to know (my 2 readers)?

I break down lately.

I'm listening to a new song. I pretend I like it all but when nobody's looking I skip almost half of it. It's really only the first 1 minute and 30 seconds that I like. Or 20 seconds.

I'm a quote person.
I have interesting quotes.
Cheesy quotes mostly.
Or smart quotes.
Or silly quotes. Interesting nonetheless.
I don't do well with texts.

Sunday, November 24, 2013

A we that became me

I looked at the mirror and saw your face; my reflection was gone.
It came back with a story to tell.
It's the same nightmare everyday.
I have your blood on my hands. I can't wash it away.

What did we want to prove? What did we win? What did we lose? 

I would beg you to stay, if i knew what to do.

Saturday, November 16, 2013

Lady Luck

I had some love. Small enough to slide it under your door.
You had some songs. Long enough to grow me weary.

It was late. So exceptionally late.
Too late.

I gambled my heart and lost my soul.

I couldn't keep up my end of the deal.

Friday, October 4, 2013


The way time passes by and sweeps off everything. It's almost exquisite.
There comes a time when all that's left is to write about it.
Writing is like cheating time. 
You steal a small fragment and keep it well hidden.
A memory to relive once in a while. 

Because, what noone tells you is that when you fall, by the time you stand up again, things may have changed.

Monday, September 23, 2013

The seats have no name

We swim in the same sea,
you and me.
We made the same deal,
you and me.
We met the same demise,
you and me.

I hold our silence in my hands.

Now we will drink our poison from our golden spoon.

Wednesday, September 11, 2013

Dirty Love

-It's in the wrong place, I'm telling you.
-I can't give it back now, there's no way. 

We had a plan, you and me. It was lost in the river. 

PS. Remember that lantern you left hanging on the porch? It fell down and burnt everything. I saved everything. I have it all. I left your jeans by the seashore. I put the keys in the wrong pocket.

Friday, August 2, 2013

The Hanging Gardens

       Being awake at 6 o clock always gave me a weird sense of freedom.
Watching the world wake up.

       I once shared that with you. We walked along the sea and I thought I could pull off an Italian accent. We discovered the gardens of Somalia and drank expensive American coffee.We wanted to get on a boat but it was too early for that.
       Our dreams laid beyond the Atlantic ocean. Our happiness laid in limbo. Our love lied. It lied big time.

       Now it's summer again. "No more you". It's weird. But maybe it feels right... and sad. These two go together more times that I'd like to admit. It's not like before.

I had nothing more to give you.

Image credits go to:

Tuesday, July 30, 2013

White lies

Little lies.
Little white lies.

Sprinkled in your coffee, sitting on your back,

writing on your forehead, through your window’s crack.
Eating your despair,
giving you some air,
until they take it back
until you’ve lost the track

It’s all white lies.

White lies, white little lies,
they hide into the light,
they haunt you by the night

You can’t escape the lies,
you can’t escape the lies.

Image credits go to

Thursday, July 18, 2013

Platform 50 -that's a really big station

It’s clear, how controversial life is,
when you get sad, while listening to a happy song,
when what brought you joy a week ago, now depresses you.

It’s 2AM and I’m listening to the White Birch, thinking of you, just like I did a year ago.

When everything is the same, but different.

Life is controversial, and we could be controversial together, like we were, but the harsh, cynical truth - the one I see at least- is that I don't want what you want. And I don't seek what you seek. I don't feel what you feel.
And in the end that's what matters.

When we are so connected, so far apart. 

Image credit goes to:

Thursday, July 11, 2013

Already there

This is the love show,
you all are invited
to look at our lives
we already recited 

at the look of the knives
when we all grow nearsighted 
how the misery thrives
in this room poorly lighted

to meet with the pain
we thought we ignited
sad was they thought
before they departed

Thursday, July 4, 2013

Too much

You couldn’t shake it off.
It just wouldn’t go away like that.
Or ever.
You shouldn’t make compromises.
Compromises like that make you miserable at the end.
You were clear.
I was clear.
No one was happy about it.
I couldn’t make you wait forever.
At least that’s how I felt. 

Monday, June 24, 2013

Heart skipped a beat

It felt like your plane had landed on my back.
I couldn’t see it. I could feel its weight bringing me down.
My hands touched you and broke into million pieces that day.
I looked into your eyes. Familiar. But then I lost them.
Just like that.
They tried to find me,
between dirty walls and missed calls,
I started losing other parts of you.

When it feels like it’s not over, but it is.

When it feels that your mind is breaking, but your heart is not.

Wednesday, June 12, 2013

Killer Mood

THERE IT IS! The whiney post again.

                Throughout the years, the thing that intrigued me the most is everyone’s poor social skills. Why can’t people have a conversation? Stick to the point, express what you mean -clearly- and remember what you said two minutes ago.

                They talk about a million things trying to prove their point, they complicate everything and when the other one has the decency to untangle the mess and lay down what they actually said, they simply answer “That’s not what I meant”. Oh, but it IS what you meant, you just didn’t like the way it sounded. 

And then we welcome chaos. Things stop making ANY sense. Arguments become totally invalid, and you can turn them down o n e b y o n e.
The conversation usually ends with “You don’t understand”, “I just can’t express myself in the right way”, or “You just can’t accept someone else’s opinion”.

                No, you know what? Maybe you are just an idiot, and your opinion sucks. Go learn how to make a simple freaking sentence.

Wednesday, May 22, 2013

Post shock

You were holding an empty suitcase when you came back; you said you didn’t want your things anymore so you left them all back in new York.
You bought the suitcase because you liked it and you wanted to give it to me.
I opened the suitcase and I found a jar of marmalade. You told me to wait outside.
You took the next plane to New York.
I sat there and ate all the marmalade.

Sunday, May 19, 2013

Buttery dreams

Wild butterflies
flew out of your suitcase
and into my heart
and then they ate it
and then I died

The end


How beautiful it is to suffer
from the wild butterflies
that flew into my heart
How meaningless it is
to try and fight them back
than to just let them
consume my soul
to eternity

Thursday, April 18, 2013

Making it, faking it

Nobody makes it. It’s a fact.
You pity the girl that parties all night while you work 12 hours a day. Well she’s not gonna make it, but, neither are you.
“Making it” is not a part of human nature, because we simply don’t want to “make it” at one thing.
So you are not gonna make it and you will wish you partied a little more, and the girl won’t make it, and she will wish she went to university, but the fact is you both wouldn’t make it either way. There is never going to be that big moment in your life where you will be at the right place.
I always believed there was a better place for me. Not in a literal way.

Back in 1999 I thought that place would be when I’d get into high school.
I once had a fight with my mother, and told her that when I turned 16 I would be sleeping anytime I wanted. She said that would be fine with her.
When I turned 16 that still wasn’t the case.
I wasn’t at that place yet.
I believed I would be when I turned 18 though.
Then I waited until school ended.
Then I waited until I got into university.
Today I’m 20 (almost 21) and I’m still not in that place. I still remember every dreadful night I had to spend awake back in 1999. Now my want to stay awake, has transformed into a psychological and physical disability to fall asleep.
My all time fear that I was missing out the world every time I was forced to sleep, had integrated into my way of life.
And so I write these kinds of things.

But that all, is irrelevant. And of course sleep is a very small part of the “place” I wanted to be.
The thing is, nobody makes it. The “place” changes for most people, and for others it’s so farfetched that they give up and live with the illusion that it was the only thing they ever wanted.
Nobody makes it.

Wednesday, February 20, 2013

Too bad

I drew you a picture but the lines were too abstract.
I wrote you a poem but the letters were too small.
I sung you a song but the music was too loud.

I told you I loved you, 
but the voices in your head wouldn’t let you hear it.

Saturday, January 12, 2013

Ashes feel like snow

It takes 3 steps to dance. 2, is walking. Boring people count their steps by twos when they walk.
I’ve taken a lot of steps until now. None of them combined well enough to create a dance worthwhile. I take small steps. Picture something like ballet. But sadly, I have no sense of rhythm.

My reality is twisted. It could also be considered utopian. In this realm of insanity I find a small stone.

-Dusty, dusty day it is, it utters.
-What do you mean?
-It’s this dust that people leave when they are sad. It burdens the world.
-Then every day is a dusty day.
-Every day is a dusty day, indeed.
-That’s sad.
-Here, more dust!
-Don’t you have a part in this dustiness?
-My dear, I’m a stone. I can’t be sad, I can’t be happy either. I don’t have a choice. I have no feelings, but if I did, I would envy the things that had one.
-One what?
-A choice.
-Nobody has a choice. It’s just an illusion.
-Then I would very much like to have this illusion. That is, if I had feelings. Illusions are what keeps you going.

And then it turned to dust. I was right. That was a sad, sad stone. 

There are no stones here anymore. They all turned to dust. They are all sad.
If I ever turned into dust, I would be would be white and pure. And I would cover up the whole world, like snow.