today

yesterday.

a smile. 'i am enjoying this. yes, i am enjoying this - 'freedom', meeting new people, discovering new avenues, doing what i want, watching butterflies bloom once again. yes, this is not so bad.' so i say to myself.

today.

i visit the past. and my heart aches with love, straining to change reality. as the door closes and the light turns off, i watch before opening the gate to finally leave. through the window i see the beauty of the past, as she walks back to the light in the living room. in the shadows i feel like slumping. damien rice's cold water plays in my mind.

i have walked all this way. through rapids and swamps, heard the roar of the universe in the ocean, through fields of thistles, skipped through gardens of tulips. all this beauty that flutters in my mind. all this pain.

the piano is slow. and these dried flowers shed their petals before my eyes.

'will i wake up when i'm forty, and realise that you were the best person i ever knew, the best person i never had?'

cold water surrounds me now

i write these words as if i wish to create some permanence, some real testimonial to the unreality of dreams and despair inside my skull. but what are these words? who are they for? who reads them?

cold

cold water

surrounds

me now

and

all i've got

is

your

hand


my feet ache. it seems like i have walked so far. i walk around and around. and i think i am somewhere. but my paths are circles. and i always end up back here. this same place. with the light that flickers when i cry, and these dried flowers, naked before my sadness...