2012-04-17 03:42 AM
You have new clothes...
Noise
My head has become clockwork...
Originally written in Swedish in 2010.
Translated and rewritten the eighth of February...
2014-02-13 02:10 AM
The marks of your silhouette...
2014-02-18 01:15 AM
I wish I could write a happy ending...
Now, my heart is paper,
fragile to malice...
Drifting with black sails
through the freezing air...
I weep now, for longing;
I sob for another night of mental unrest...
The butterfly glows as luminescent blood
as it stretches it massive wingspan...
Seven cycles of the seasons later,
and I'm still gluing back together...
Only after he died did I really understand what he meant when he jokingly said "Live fast, die young!" |
Self-destruction is the path of poets, making us turn pain into beauty and beauty into pain. |
We, who are unloved, must learn to love each other. |