A butterfly kiss on the cheek
Because she likes me.
(She is so sweet)
A second kiss on my cheek
Because she wants
To make sure I get the message
And butterflies are sensitive.
(She is beautiful)
Her delicate hands around my face
The softest kiss on my lips
Because my face probably shows
That I am still not getting her message clearly.
(Dumbed. Warmth. I think I am in love)
The green tranquility of a cup of tea,
Resonates with the authentic comfort of the wooden structure.
My place, my time.
The half-open paper screens
Let a small breeze in,
Pushing endless white and grey clouds in
And out.
The house is full of empty,
Filled with serenity and love,
Simplicity.
Remote but not alone.
Empty but not hollow.
Filled with nothing else than
Myself
And my love of the world
My love for my relatives
My love for you.
I feel more complete a full than ever.
The cup empty.
For a brief moment I stay here
At the crossroads of what I may want
And what I am scared to leave.
I let the threads of time pass through me.
Sweet anachronisms.
Or maybe I am the anachronism.
How long does
“too soon” last ?
I regressed
To the point that
I don’t know the words
That could express how I feel.
I feel dumb,
So much that
I don’t even know
My name.
I am a nobody.
I feel detached,
So remote, that it scares me to death.
My body doesn’t anchor me
Here below.
I could try
To overcome all that
But I would be building
New lies to cover up for
That thing
I hate to acknowledge,
I fear to admit has come back.
Depression.
However I won’t lie to myself.
It is just me and my feelings now,
In an honest face-to-face,
A showdown maybe.
My home was rickety
So I ruined it
And dug deep down
To the foundations
In order to destroy them.
I had found a more secure structure
For my new foundations.
With vim had I started
The new construction work
And had been making good progress.
Then the Architect addressed me
In the most sibylline way,
Sparkling doubt.
I came to a stop
And looked at what I had built.
Suddenly the whole structure
Made no sense to me,
Like pieces of a puzzle
Arranged in an unintended way
Giving illusion of completeness
As it could in truth
Be even more fragile than before.
I am about to take it all down,
All my newly accomplished work,
But I can’t resolve to do so,
As I have no new design
For my foundations.
So I sit down in the dirt
And cry.
I was going my way,
It was a tough quest
But I was confident
That it would take me
To my destination.
Then I hit a wall.
Bewildered I began to wonder,
On what side of the wall
Am I supposed to be ?
On what side of the wall
Was I before anyway ?
On what side of the wall
May I meet my true self ?
Would it have felt
Like the late evening storm
That ends a day of suffocating heat,
Would it have provided relief,
Had I kissed her
When I had the chance ?
Would I be living less in the past
And a little more in the present
Was my train of thoughts not like a merry-go-round,
Would I be able to move on,
Had we had more time together
When we both seemed to want it ?
Would it have made her less obsessing today ?
Would it have made me spare the pain
Of telling her
“good night” ?
