Life-Saver.

Steady disintegration of the Universe like I knew it.
My mind throws itself in folds, enclosing secrets yet unknown to the living.
He smiles.

And it begins.

He fills my soul with so much love,
That anywhere I go, I'm never lonely,
With him along -who can be lonely?

Although you were biased, I love your advice.
Your comebacks- they're quick and probably have to do with your insecurities.
There's no shame in being crazy,
Depending on how you take these words I'm paraphrasing...

(Hold your breath, it gets better)
I'm like a shooting star,
I've come so far,
I can't go back to where I used to be...

With your fatalism and your crooked face...
Hoping you will come and untangle me one of these days...

...dance me to the end of love...

Now you're telling me you're not nostalgic,
Then give me another word for it,
You who are so good with words
And at keeping things vague.
'Cause I need some of that vagueness now,
It's all come back too clearly.
Yes, I loved you dearly...

..Refrain,
Don't carry the world upon your shoulders.
For well you know that it's a fool who plays it cool by making his world a little colder.

I was born too late into a world that doesn't care...

I think I've already lost you,
I think you're already gone,
I think I'm finally scared now.
You think I'm weak.
I think you're wrong...

Nothing you would take, everything you gave.
Hold me till I die.
Meet you on the other side...

In another life, I would be your girl,
We'd keep all our promises,
Be us against the world...

We were friends and lovers and clueless clowns.
I didn't know I was finding out how I'd be torn from you,
When we talked about things we were born to do,
We were wide eyed dreamers and wiser too...

And now the things I've done to forget you,
Well, it's not what I had planned.
The sweetest thoughts get twisted in the Strangeland...
Strangeland dreams, you tore my baby away from me,
We get no time to put things right...

Lean on me, when you're not strong.
And I'll be your friend, I'll help you carry on...

Why'd you lie,
When you wanna die, when you hurt inside,
Don't know what you lie for.. anyway, Now there's nothing left to say...

If 'Happy Ever After' did exist, I'd still be holding you ...
All those fairy tales are full of shit.
One more fucking love song, I'll be sick...

Love of my life- don't leave me.
You've stolen my love and now desert me...

And the songbirds keep singing like they know the score.
And I love you.
I love you.
I love you... like never before...

And I always will remember all the strength you gave to me.
Your love made me make it through.
Oh, I owe so much to you.
You were right there for me...

Now I think I know,
What you tried to say to me,
And how you suffered for your sanity,
And how you tried to set them free...

I never saw your spirit break,
I wish that I could be your journey's end,
But you were only passing through...

Nothing looks the way it did before,
I don't know where to look or what to look for...
We've been disconnected somehow.
There's an invisible wall between us now...

..............................

So this was our song,
This was our song...

I could not give up on you.

Soil and six feet under,
Killed just like we were,
Before you'd know you know me.
and you know me.

Blooming up from the ground,
Three rounds and a sound.
Like whispering you know me.
And you KNOW me.

       ***

Me- 
White web of winged mist/
 Silent kiss blows thousand wishes/
 Just a dandelion.
He-

 "Five seven, then five/
 Syllables mark a haiku/
Your usage is Strange"
27.8.2011

Sublimation.

Who am I

that I must be loved
so exquisitely,
excruciatingly
by the dead
and the living?  

Who am I
 that I deserve to be
 the cause,
 the effect
of this anguish
that pulls apart
fraying sutures
of a repeatedly worn-out heart?

 Who am I-
An ice sculpture,
Commended for beauty
and loved hastily
by those who
anticipate
its melting.

Are those not tears ?
The wetness of my being
that melts as ..

They wait in horror
(or is it delight?)
For me to drip away
into fluid nothingness.
To prove I am alive.
(For ice-sculptures are animate only if they drip.)

But wait,
There is no flow,
and hence,
there must be an absence of life,
The steady
v
a
n
i
s
h
i
n
g

 is
Unexpected.

Chaos.

'It was never alive!'
'Deception!'

My secrets remain undiscovered,
Trapped in forgotten melody
and lost biscuit boxes.

'Dry Ice.'
says the one that knew me
and smiling lopsidedly,
reasserts his statement-

'They still don't know squat about you.'

4 a.m.

I tasted the answers in the music you left me.
It was all there.
Every note.
Black and sweet .
Nothing left incomplete.

And you left me behind
 these old lines-

'Want you to know,
That I could go,
Any time...
I want you to know...

Once she would hold me,
She was my only,
only true love.
Once she had told me,
that I am holy,
only so long.'

What is this about?
Resolve?
Rejection?
Resolution?
Acceptance?

I feel so helpless.
But I’m a coward.

I can’t take my life in my own hands.
I can’t take my life with my own hands.

What do I do?
Pointless
Useless
Writing.

It’s not going to make anything better.
It’s not going to change anything.
But we were.
We could have.
Things didn’t have to be okay.
We had each other and I always thought that was enough.

‘You're always looking for love.
I mean the romantic kind...’
‘Yes.’

It’s 4 a.m. and I can’t get to sleep.
Pain. Insomnia.  Death.
There is nothing romantic about it.
It’s so real and the books and the movies and the songs and the dreams
are all WRONG.

If even one of this could make me a better human being…
Or a better writer…
It might have been worth it.
But maybe not even then.

What is the value of my life?
Who am I?
Why am I alive instead of him?
What do I have to do here, something that is left undone?
and why is it even important?

Nobody has the answers.
But these voices just won’t shut up inside my head.
Maybe I should kill the questions instead.

And he sings...

‘ Can you imagine no love, pride,
deep-fried chicken,
your best friend always sticking up for you,
even when I know you’re wrong.
Can you imagine no first dance, freeze-dried romance,
five hour phone conversations,
the best soy latte that you ever had
and Me.
Tell me, did you sail across the sun?
Did you make it to the milky way
and see the lights all faded
and that heaven is over-rated,
and tell me,
did you fall for a shooting-star,
one without a permanent scar,
and did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there.’
(Drops of Jupiter)
'Yes.'

References

I stay up all night, unblinking.
Old conversations rise up before me.
They place their long, cold fingers on my warm throat.

I feel my pulse beat faster as the words swim across my eyes.
A black river of memory.
Then the chill pit in my stomach and the hollow of my heart
Disassociate.
I survive.
They fail to
Asphyxiate
Me.

I blame me.
Then I blame you.
Then I cry.

Every song is drenched in new meaning,
So simple, yet unattainable till now.

All the words that you planted in my brain,
flower in blazing light.
But they smell different, somehow.
An odour of memory and death and longing and love.

We used to talk about selective memory.
I will try not to commit that mistake.

Yes I agreed with Neruda that love was shorter than forgetting.
And you said that I listened like spring and talked like June.
And I knew that one day, one of us would have to be without the other.
but I never imagined it would be me and it would be so soon.

This love is strange, Ron.
It grows stranger each day.
And it grows stronger each day.

I know you felt too much love would kill me,
 If didn't make up my mind
and I know that you wanted to break free.

You are free now.
And I'm alone.
And I'm alive.
Without you.
 But why?
I wish you were here.

I'm tired of writing poetry.
I'm tired of making sense.
I'm tired of asking questions.
I'm tired of looking for answers.
And even finding them, sometimes.

But I'm not tired of loving you.
And I'm not tired of you memory.
And till I love,
And till I remember.
You'll always be here with me.

Love

They told me the world would end in 2012.
And it did.

You told me writing about Love wasn't enough.
Then you killed yourself so I could write about Death instead.

It's not about what I want to say to you now.
It's about what I couldn't tell you then.

That I loved you and I left you so that you would be stronger and find your way and I'd come back someday (obviously) and tell you sorry and tell you how proud I am of you and will you please take me back?

But that won't happen.

You are dead.

You are dead.

You are dead?

Dead.

I can't feel the meaning of this word.

Dead.

I see the letters make a curious shape, but its oblong and smoky and the world must be over because you can't be dead.

They tell me it's not my fault.
Perhaps they are correct.

But I'll never know.

And I told you but you never believed me - and now you'll never know.
Or I'll never know that you know now.

How much I love you.


31.5.2012