POETRY and PREJUDICE

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, 10 август 2014 г.

off my system

"Broke up and *you're* relieved somehow
It's the end of the discussions that just go 
round and round and round..."

i want to tell you a million and a half things
my chest is empty without your coal curls on it
i wake up at six and go to bed at ten
watched two perfect "mountain" days pass by
from my dirty barred windows and messy bed
i wish i never had given you back that t-shirt,
should've kept it until it's soaked with tears
i saw "eternal sunshine of the spotless mind"
please, tell me those two remind you of us
(but you ain't meeting me in montauk, no
you ain't even meeting me downtown)
the darkness tastes like sorrow, iron and your mouth
to the rhythm of "whenever you breathe out"
exactly like it tasted that scary, lovely july night
when you jumped out of the window
and, god, i could've had a heart attack
(because when you opened that door
i thought i couldn't love you more )

i know the touch of every piece of skin
when you're lying with your back against me
i know how you look unshaved,
how even then you're so baby faced,
i've known you sick and perfectly healthy,
all dressed up and completely naked.
i've discovered your irises changing in the light
like a spring falling into autumn's loving arms,
and you stole them from your mother
along with your father's ambitions.
(no settling for less, on the edge of the superficial)
i lived your past when it came down from your lips,
we knew the future was bright, when we dipped our fingertips,
(but who would've planned on you changing your mind?
"i push myself through this and it's going out of line" )
your hatred for the loud and motley crowds,
your admiration for that musketeer-looking guy,
every single curve - from forehead to toes,
( that, by the way, are glued like mine)
the way you feel kind of insecure about your nose,
( which in my opinion is the best i could find )
i've watched you dance and laugh and heard you sing,
i'd read your tales to all my kids;
how you never look somebody straight in the eyes
when you're explaining something (it's always to the side),
the songs you like, the books you'll never read...

that you know every little thing about me.

all those melodies are on repeat - and i still listen.
you will never be written entirely off my system.

Няма коментари:

Публикуване на коментар