One more hesitation and dawn is gone. One more palpitation and my anger is undue. Clouded sky has glued my mood to the lowest extrem of the living scale.
She whispered loudly that I might not grant her life because I hate myself as much as her. Fair games are not played without love, and let the wind disperses my forgiveness. I exit the forlorn state of mind while running through the bare birches. I wonder if these slipery paths would subdue this cruel sorrow.
The stories we tell ourselves are limiting the infinite array of possibilities awaiting to unfold in our life spring. I had failed to sweetness, and adulterate the flavor of my thriteen self dreams, I owe to her to push boundaries harder. Hence I jumped over dead branches and acorns. Shall winter relinquish?
Jan 18, 2012
Jan 10, 2012
Jan 9, 2012
When I look beyond me
there is no one else but me to love,
and I find it so vain.
I want to shout, I hate you Narcisse.
Grooming myself is a torture,
because as my face looks more and more like me,
I can't help but thinking why
I don't see you beside me in the mirror.
Every bit is so hard to swallow,
because fueling this life can only make sorrow deeper,
longer and happiness feels like a more and more distant memory.
Anything I do I wonder what for,
as I know it will not bring you back,
the shining lamp that casted warmth over my future.
I thread the limbs in the dark, so lonely.