mol-col-m

Girafa scoare capul din sticla si o sparge. Isi sparge arcada iar sangele ii inunda ochii. Corpul ii este sfartecat de  Cristale iar bucatile de carne se intind la podea fara zgomot. Din nas curge intai miere si apoi ochii se sparg in gauri cu zmoala care inghit tot sangele de pe fata. Picioarele se ridica in aer se incruciseaza si raman sprijinite pe Mormanul de oase de pe spinare. Adulmeca. isi scapa ochelarii pentru momente si a disparut.

Tin

For once i thought there is order there is silence. I thought the universe had its own balance and there was the time for it to be silent.

i thought your skin glowing in the dark meant something. I refuse to think that your eyes look better in the daylight. Your eyes change their colour when the sun goes down

the sun is down. the upside is down. the mirrors are down. there’s this too-loud-whisper of something so well-known that i feel like throwing up an getting my stomach and my gutts out. getting every piece of dust and hands dirty with mining, lovers crying waiting for their dreams to be fulfilled, kids running in circle just to stay focused and in shape, minds going in and out of consciousness.

nothing seems meaningful. seems everything. write me a poem, cry me a river, spit me your heart out and let me heal the wounds you’ve made. Blow me with every piece of blood that’s falling down my knee.. keep my hands above my wrist, above my head and above everything.

I could keep my soul up high but it feels so much better when u do it. Except you hands are dirty and you lost your gun. blood is flowing everywhere and your heart stopped beating at the sound of my whisper for help.

Stop crying your heart out, you say. stop breaking it in pieces and pretend to gather it from the floor. it’s still there, lying on a bed of rusty papers wet with gin.

Or your brain could stop at the the sound of the new car? Or shoulders could begin to tremble and stop playing? Or i could just say stop and not let myself get carried away by independence. i won’t repeat.

like crows rest their claws, like snakes eat their tongue filled with spicy pickles, like mothers feed their children and after start eating their toenails while sticking their fingers in their eyes while they are still blue. like your head falls down and your body freezes still believing that it’s there and it can work without it.

there is.. And i waited for the not. I got my not. i didn’t wait for it but i want to believe i wanted it. i didn’t. i thought there is.. but there is not.

despaducherea simturilor mele

gandaci. mii. arme. slabe. clauze. niciuna. urme. indoite.

gheare. trei. gaura. superficiala. momente. gri.

clinchet. masini. creta. crispat. inovator.

confort. afara. alearga in cerc. fuge. alearga in cerc. se arunca la pamant. fuge. alearga in cerc. alearga in cerc.

stop listening and start looking at me

Moving from the warmest place on Earth, being one of the first times I stopped feeling lonely.. going from that to sitting in a corner, not wanting to talk to anyone, feeling the whispers again, the mud and the face of the pure gold drowned in holy water. Misery could be a state of being but your soul drags me there because it’s broken in pieces.. Bits and pieces.. Bits and accolades and scars and wounds and cold tunes.. it’s not about screaming, it’s about shuting ur brain down when u need it the most.  It’s about the mistic pleasure of knowing the only truth there is, not yours, not his, the truth. And u know it so that’s craving inside you in every second of loneliness.. you hear the beats and you see the storms, they all mix with their faces, mostly his face but there’s more of them.

Purify your veins with my eyes and electrify your wounds with my smile. You need to listen my voice instead of the whispers. salvation or a new war.. What are u looking for?

clear thoughts in a fog and blue skies reflecting in the water.. Seems like crunching bugs on your head while you bite your tongue with pain and drown it in blood. you gnash your teeth until you feel them breaking up like glass.. Every feeling feels 1000 times more intense than it should because your head feels like an oven ready to blow up.

The loneliest thing there is is a piano. I always rely on the piano to get the tears out on my face and get those wounds out in the sunlight where they will burn and make u scream, at last.. u will scream because it’s ur wounds are getting sun-dried and cured. U are getting salvation even though u refuse to receive it…. U’r empty and waiting to be filled again.. Oh, look, there’s an SMS!