…meditation

Maybe I was wrong

though I can’t see it yet

tried not to force it

didn’t think I was

maybe I lied to myself

and to you

and to everyone I know

maybe I’m not fire

maybe we aren’t lit

maybe this story is brief

maybe I shouldn’t even be here

maybe I’m being dramatic

maybe I finally realised the truth

I was being dramatic

now I’m being real

maybe it’s an idea

I’ve had a lot of bad ideas

maybe no one will ever

appreciate my efforts

I’ll always be poor

always alone

maybe I’m sick

maybe the world is alright

just not for me

I turned my back

and all backs turned on me

maybe it’s time for change

radical and pained

but this day should have been different

I played it out too many times

maybe it’s my fault

always have to tell stories

the world doesn’t need stories

I don’t need them

neither do you

I’ll always be wrong

always misunderstood

maybe my feelings scare me

I mean the real me

this isn’t it

It was never it

just another narrative I created

like God who overtook nature

and we forgot the truth

forgot instinct and honesty

lost a sense

like I lost you

somewhere in the last few weeks

maybe I’m too old

too damaged

self-inflicted hate

self-hating inflictions

a disease like the ones

that killed the birds

and the bears

they all drowned

forgot how to fly

only sharks remained

they’ll always be here

always were

not my fiction

like everything else

like the stripes we wear

a shitty disguise

while we forgot the essence

and I forgot the veracity

forgot the phoenix

the chimera

and the mapinguari

lost my beauty along

with my hair

and now I’m just broken

sad, fucked and broken

and we are broken

and there’s no way to fix me

to fix us and to fix this

I’m not enough

I want to set you on fire

need someone to set on fire

and if I can’t then I’ll always

be empty in this sweaty dark

useless and untrusting

afraid of the reasons why

breathlessly depressed

lungs tight and head fuzzy

waiting for dawn

when I hope things will change

when I hope I’ll realise this is just

another nightmare

like the one I had where you left me

because I need to go

I need to be gone

this isn’t me

this isn’t me

I’m not me

I’ll never be again

loved again

sure again

limbo till the end

and limbo is tiresome

limbo makes me fight

limbo retains the pain

addicted to it

unrest like my grandmother said

and now she’s resting

far from here

on her death bed

and I on mine

but I’m too afraid

fear was never me

and now it is

and that’s why

this is so fucking wrong

no more tranquillity

because I was ‘loss’

afraid of myself forever

afraid it’ll never be better

maybe I’m done

radically done

maybe we aren’t

but maybe

it’s a story I can tell

one day

in a place far from here

because I ran out of time

we killed time

I killed her

and I killed me

and now I’m killing you

and I say one thing

mean another

mean nothing

mean something

that once was

and now isn’t

but maybe when

I tell this story

you can tell it with me

hold my hand

look lovingly across a table

in the distance

a mirage of what this is

and tell it with me

it’s all I hold onto now

September night

our summer a scrapbook

I’ll always flick through

but done and gone

and as you sleep

I cry and I ponder

write and look out

at rain and fog

that was there the day I met you

never let it melt and disperse

in spite of all these words

fuck them and fuck me

I’ll love you endlessly

find a way

to light you again

I’ll be the spoon

you bend

the truth

you pretend

was just a beautiful dream

that keeps on repeating

as the world grows older

and you and I together

with it

won’t matter that

the backs are all turned

that part of my ambience

is long gone

because your back

will be turned with me

we’ll be making our

own ambience

our own sense

it’s all I ever asked for

all I ever was.

 

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