the time you slipped

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Looking back, you can see with a near-certain clarity that you jumped into a void. You may not have realised its depth, or the weight you were carrying, but you jumped nonetheless. And, as seems the way with these things, eventually someone realised you were falling. That you cannot jump from such a height without hurting yourself.
With time comes lucidity, and it is now grievingly obvious that you were going to land after all. That although nobody knew what was at the base, it would be painful, perhaps even more destructive than the initial leap. And yes, it was destructive, that reaching, loving leap.

Even if, at the time, you thought you were flying.

knowing

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I get it.
That in the quiet moments, you can't ignore it.
When you are in the shower with it's too-warm water pounding on your face
And water droplets gathering like granules on your back.
When you are walking to the bus-stop, your hands fiddling with a shirt-button.
When you are at a party and for a moment your thoughts stop.

I get it. That in the quiet moments,
You can't ignore how unhappy you are.

Deja Vu

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I have this feeling that keeps coming back to me
like not only have i been here before, but i've said these things before, I was in this exact situation before
more than that, i have lived this exact life before
and like groundhog day i keep screwing it up
so i am forced to relive it
and i think
oh the cruelty
because more than ever i believe the mistake will be some kind of tragedy.
will be something bad.
but instead of peace i will be forced to relive it
to start again
to endure everything i've taken so far
again

it feels like moments are gathering towards one
and although i can do anything to change it
i don't know how to
or want to
because the idea of making it up as i go along,
of not unconsciously knowing what's in store
is fucking scary

FUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKK

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I actually realise why Dylan has given up on me.

Finally I understand.

I always knew but I never understood

I'm a fucking joke.

There's no words to describe what an incredible twat I am

REPEATEDLY

I am a douche bag

and it annoys me that noone will tell me so.

I swear to God I wasn't always this selfish.

It's just, I've begun taking care of myself, and that hurts other people.

i want to throw something and smash it.

Uncovered

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Again, doubts are nesting. That already,

With a soft word, you can voice your feelings
Ignites fear. Can't you see I'm concealing
...What? Incertitude, reluctance, dread. Flee
From me while you freedom holds its head. See
The way my mouth curves (not to the ceiling),
Not your fault but mine. A lack of zeal? Sings
The voice. No, I swear, my mouth is steady.
But look at what you have been dragged into,
My lair. The voice suggests I should sever
What has not even begun.  No! Adieu!
I scream to voices. Are they so clever
or am I so foolish as to undo
That which may bring joy to me? No. Never.

hold on

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when i am 30
i will live alone, in a house in the country
and when i stand outside and look around my house, i will not see a trace of civilization except mine
and at night the stars will sing to me.

i will live there for 3 months, or a year or unto death
and i will cook and read and write
and retreat
from the world
into myself

i will not have a family
because even then i wont be that selfish
instead i will have me
and my thoughts
and they will occupy me and my time

instead

i will have a room with nothing in it
but metal and wood and sand
and when i need to
i will go into the room and throw paint at the walls and at myself
i will throw the wood at the walls and the metal at the wood
i will run my fingers through the sand then my hair
and i will finally physicalize feelings

sometimes when im lonely i will speak to myself
or my fire or sink
because they will listen and so will i
i will sit on my roof and scream and scream and scream
and dance
and noone will hear me and noone will care
and i won't feel trapped
or lonely or in danger or targeted
ill feel like myself
ill feel free

and until then, that -that promise- will be enough

skin.

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and so they run
half naked
the waves licking
wind whipping
their legs
arms
skin.
electricity builds in their chest
collapses as laughter in the air around them
mixing with the salt,
overwhelming the senses.

flushed with their own daring
surprised by their own confidence
they expose parts of themselves to the world
that normally hide in the dark

skin
that is shy
shapes
that are concealed
colours
that are lost
they are finally revealed,
finally beautiful
no longer shadow.

but here,
atoms collide, shift, disappear
here,
anything can happen.

so instead
waves swallow them,
as they wallow in this half-world
and forget what it's like to feel
modesty.

and then
(pay attention)
the climax approaches
there's no slinking
no cowering
no covering

only running their arms by their sides
only embracing movement that is usually ignored
only flying
only freedom

this,
this is the feeling that can't be described
this is the moment between waking and sleeping
this is the part that people leave out.


afterwards
they walk back with a smile
a secret that glows in their chests
lighting up their faces
that can only be traced to their damp skin
wet hair
sandy feet

this is the feeling that can't be ignored.

i'm glad it's ok

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okay,

i trust you.

let's go with your idea

I can't help feeling it will be awkward next time we see each other.