The Search

I’ve searched everywhere for you.
Silently.
In my dreams, but awake all the time.
I’ve convinced myself you’re not real.
Someday.
Maybe we would meet anyway.

In A Dream

Sometimes I look out the window and it still feels like a dream.

As if I am in a dream.

As if I still can’t believe that I am where I am.

The things I’ve experienced and learned.

The things I never knew I could do.

Turns out I can do anything.

I am no longer simply just dreaming.

I am living in a dream.

I am living my dream.

Descending

Reflected in my eyes
You can see the skies
Of uncertainty

Beating fast
My heart
In the rhythm of a fantasy

Inhaling the flames
Deep into my lungs
Of suffocating desires

Creeping slowly
Into my soul
Shadows of darkness

Find Me

Take the heat off of me, ‘cause I will melt away.
I was meant for the cold, for the frost to caress my skin.
Glittering in the sun like a frozen lake and born with the first snow of November.

Fall silent and don’t invade me with your gaze.
I enjoy speaking with the dead because they don’t answer.
Walking slowly among the graves in the pale light of the moon.

Come alone and let your soul speak with mine.
I don’t wish for anything less but to explore the depths of your oceans.
Diving deep and emerging again to watch the stars.

Make a wish on a dead light in the sky.
I don’t care to blend in with the waves of a colorless sea.
Walking alone at my own pace against the stream of a grey river.

Dare to explore, even if you get lost.
I am like the mist of a chilly Autumn evening embracing the dying sun.
Descending softly like a cold October rain on a sleeping forest.

Find me and you may find a piece of yourself.
I exist beyond the borders of the mundane.
No longer searching for the meaning of life, but simply being.

Bleeding Heart

My heart is shaking and my world is breaking,
Your steps left footprints and your touches left scars.
I’m out of balance and I feel poison inside.
At some point, I felt all right again, but you keep on haunting me.
Anger and pain are making me rage, making my heart sink away,
Yet you’re the same, or maybe even worse, I don’t know.
I wonder if you realize that I’m still not okay.
Sometimes I wish I could hate you, but I still can’t.
For myself, I don’t want hatred inside my heart.
I keep telling myself that it is also my fault,
I had pink glasses on my eyes and refused to see.
Refused to see that I had a monster and not a beauty before me.
I looked up at the illusion that I saw,
When all this time I was supposed to look down below.

We All Drink From The Same Well

But everyone wants everything for free,
So better get your stuff and flee.
Generosity will be taken for granted,
Do not expect any gratitude.
This life… it is so great,
But then there is something called fate.
If you believe in it or not,
Matters little to the lot.
When something goes wrong,
You can blame yourself or others.
You can say life is hard,
But it’s easier than you might think.
Even if everything can disappear in one blink.
It is just that everyone wants someone to blame,
They will push you aside and get their fame.
Your life is your own creation.
Make it normal or make it a deviation,
Make it heaven or make it hell,
In the end, we all drink from the same well.

Darkness

Sometimes I wish to embrace the darkness.
Get a cold kiss.
It’s not that I am tired of being good.
The light is warm.
But I’ve pushed parts of me into the dark.
Locked away.
Light isn’t just bliss and darkness isn’t just misery.
It’s all a part of me.

Hall Of Gods

We may always meet at the Hall of Gods,

Stripped away from the problems of the world.

With nothing but the stars under our feet,

Shimmering in the dark as our souls greet.

Dear Friend

Dear friend,

Please tell me,
If my heart bleeds and my soul cries,
And my scars still ache from time to time,
How is my pain any less than yours?
How can you compare which one of us hurts more?
And why did you decide it’s you?
We all have our crosses to carry.
In each carrier’s eyes, their own are rarely less than someone else’s.
And some eyes see that they carry more than others.
That may be true, but should we compare?
And some people may seem as if they have a small cross on their neck.
Is it shiny? Is it bright?
Can’t you see the filth under the light?
And its weight is truly more.
So much more.
I would polish yours if I could.
I would help you carry it.
Yet there is not much I can truly do,
But walk on the path of life with you.

The Drought

You don’t miss them, do you?
And you don’t speak.
They shall not weep for nothing,
If your heart does not miss them.
Someday someone will reach out to them
And tell them they need them.
The wish shall be granted.
The right way this time.
The drought will end.