to all of you who recognize themselves in my work:
i'm not a hack. i don't write to please you. there's this one rule here:
if you have had even the slightest influence on my life,
i. will. write. about. you.
deal with it.
happy reading!

неделя, 11 август 2013 г.

There are crumpled pages,
pieces of toilet paper,
stains of ink on the pillow,
fingertips on my wrists

filled with words I scribble when I'm in a rush,
in the toilet,
after the darts game,
in the backstage before the shoulback,
in my room when the others are coming
right before I fall asleep

and you have to know that I couldn't keep my tradition
of creating
one single poem for every boy I loved
in small letters
and the capital ones -
forming his name.
I didn't do this for you - I wasn't able to.

I even wrote one for the
First one -
and he didn't really deserve it.

the bottom line here is -

I want to write one poem
for every time you made my knees weak,
for every time I taste your name on my lips,
for all the hours I count until I see you again,
for your forest green eyes,

but the words won't come for fear I will fail
not you, but
I will never understand.

Няма коментари:

Публикуване на коментар