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!

четвъртък, 15 май 2014 г.

capital blues

to Tsv., M. & D.

the neon signs are dimmed out on the streets,
screaming fast colors, sharp shards of dreams.
i'm freezing, soaked and growing thin;
america, are you (still) waiting for me?...

in six years i won't be able to recall
collocations exercises or failed exams.
as the gray dawn broke upon our worn out faces
i blinked faster and whispered: "remember...
hot showers and cigarrettes before bed,
crying about promises i never kept,
whining guitar to the roar of the storm,
reminiscing about the place i came from,
throwbacks to aches i outgrew and outcried,
we poured our hearts out on that april night,
caramel coffee and skipping classes,
tarot cards and half-empty glasses,
nothing was as glamorous as we tell it now,
but we stuck together as if we had vowed,
late bus rides to the end of the world,
smoke filled kitchen and your damp blond curls,
he promised he wouldn't shave
save i was there to see,
i wonder if you would tell  your kids about me..."

sometimes i'm worried i don't remember much,
when people get older, they tend to lose touch,
but that's when you text me
"won't you come over tonight?"
... all i need in this life
how we wasted our time.

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