decoy

It was already morning,

a mournful and windless morning.

The foul-smelling vapor of my soul

hovered as I breathed

No sun light would come through it.

In the faint half-light of fog,

from the puddles of my being,

I realized the end was near:

the walls around me were looming violently.

Something muddy impregnated me,

there was no light that would save me.

My cold head fell over my chest.

It was too late: 

lights went out, I fell into this chaos.

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It

It is easier for me

to pretend that you are dead.

It is softer for me

to pretend and try to forget.

It is harder for me

to r.i.p. you apart.

['Cause I should've known it from the start]

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sl(i)[ee]p tight

I woke up crying.

My eyes were swollen.

You were happy for the first time.

I was lost once again.

I dreamt about you last night,

it was not one of best ones.

You were with someone else,

someone else better.

The one that you've always dreamt of.

It was not me there, I only stared.

Shocked by the conflituous feelings in my heart.

Miserable by the pain.

But I woke up. It was just a dream.

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con·di·tion·al·i·ty

If my absence was a punishment,

Easier it would be.

If my punishment is to be absent,

In tears I will mostly be.

If endings were a good thing,

The beginning they would be.

If my life was to be miserable,

God, I wouldn’t want to be me.

If my silence concerns you most,

Lonely I will be.

If swallowing my sobs hurt you,

Screaming I'll never be.

If you waste your time in the distance,

you will sooner be at peace.

If I begged you to come back,

The same I wouldn't live.

​

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Man overboard!

Why does the ship float?

Because of its hollowness.

Because it finds itself in balance.

But its stability does not depend on that alone.

A ship must contain its fellows,

That willingly have trust.

As the captain is its heart.

Leading the way through strong winds of a storm.

They must be confident.

They sure need to find peace.

Praying to a good fate,
being away from their resting place.

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Ahull!

No ships coasting, no anchors aboard:

They're all sailing at greater seas.

How brave is the captain who sails overnight,

with no planned rout[ine].

There are no coordinates required for this trip.

Once you boarded; no way back.

The ship and its master, ship after ship.

His vessel was all but a debris.

He and she have been to all of four directions.

Though his heart always pointed North.

Even omening a wreckage,

in which he would come forth.

​

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causality

Why would I think losing is a bad thing?

"It maybe be the great of opportunities".

Am I upset by how hard it is?

Does it tear me apart to see you leave?

Death: that's really final,

Above all, it is the finish line.

Deep down into the darkness of abandon.

Crashingly it goes - the ultimate inalterable end.

I saw the aloof act of mine. 

No pieces left to mend,

How I mourn the bye.

Are you upset by how hirsute I look?

No more tearing: I'm letting you go.

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No

No more us;

No more togetherness;

No more head to head;

No more happiness.

If this is pain,

I don't want it.

If this was the end,

I didn't want it.

If I had a heart, now,

maybe I would describe it.

However, you took it away.

Now my lungs pump my craves.

Promise me I'll go first.

Promise me I'll not last.

I hope it ends soon.

'cause pain may break me enough to not let me thrive again. 

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Recl.u.s.i.on

How happy is reclusion, if sour!

Down, down, down into the darkness.

Gently it goes - the outside, the pungent being.

How happy is living, if nasty!

How unique and just this is,

to get me wondering if breathing is enough to live.

The soul, however, hard it tries.

It will always seems  devious,

never forgetting the intangeable and shrewd core.

"Where else would I rather be?"

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[terrain]

My heartless void, you inspire me to write.

I long the way you are: dainty and fair,

Invading my mind through day and night,

Always clinging to the teary spite.

Let me compare you.

You are more shrieval than benign.

Great winds shake the leafage of my sorrow,

At wintertime the glorious warmth of your arms I want to borrow.

How do I love you? Let me count the ways.

I love your emptyness and your braveness:

Your frost fills my days.

My love for you is now and it lasts more than one day.

Now I must dwell with my bleary heart.

Remember my deep words,

Whilst we're apart.

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[barren]

Notice the hole,

it is the most vast whole of all.

Does it make you shiver?

Does it?

I saw the black obscurity of my days being destroyed,

How I mourned in the limbo.

I'll never forget the void.

Why would you think my patience is small?

It is the greater lack of all.

Does it make you linger?

Does it?

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[the speaker]

​No one really knows me.

The person I think of as "myself" exists only for me.

Although, I don't really know who that "me" is.

Every person I meet,

have a relationship or make eye contact with,

on the street, creates a version of "me" in their heads.

I am not the same person to my mom, my dad, my sister, 

than I am to my coworkers, my neighbours or

my friends.

There are a thousand different versions of myself out there,

in people's minds.

A "me" exists in each version,

and yet "me", 

isn't really a "someone" at all.

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