Well.

I wish there was a way I could write something new for you.
Something that has not been contaminated by the white anguish of my former self.
But I have nothing whole to offer you.
It scares me.
I know that what I’m opening myself up to has the potential to destroy me- once and for all.
Am I ready?

I must remember that this might be a dead end as well.
But something is growing inside of me.
Day by day.
I wont call it Hope.
That makes it sound dangerous.
Am I ready?

I don’t want to post this.
This doesn’t make sense.
Does it?
WhatamIdoingwhatamIdoingwhatamIdoing?
Stopthinkingsomuch.
Stopit.

Am I ready?
Hell, yeah.

For Lovers Past.

This is not goodbye.
No more heartbreak, no need to cry.
No more hollow, icy sighs.
This is not goodbye.

Love comes again,
As we knew it would.
Others steal our hearts,
As we knew they could.
We kiss, we embrace,
But search for a face,
Unforgotten, as it should.

You say Life goes on,
And I know its true.
A new day comes,
For me, for you.
A new day comes without you.
And Life goes on again- its true.

Will you be happy?
Is this what you want?
My eyes, my songs, my breath, my taste,
Lovemaking in haste,
Teardrops and blood that went to waste,
Your days and nights will haunt.

This is not goodbye.

30.6.2011