Sidewalks

This is an apology letter to the both of us for how long it took me to let things go,
I am sorry.
I am sorry you were not truly loved and that it made you cruel.
And of course, you are going to say you are happy now,
and draw a wide fake smile on your face,
But every time I look into your eyes,
I could tell that you were hurt,
that I broke you.
And lately,
I am wondering,
Who will be there to take my place?
I hate how I couldn't stop imagining you in everybody I tried to love after you had left,
I am a discarded unfinished book,
looking for someone to create chaotic memories with to help write the climax to my story.
I often look at the people holding hands in the hallways and I try to think how it all works out,
While I either fall in love too quick,
or I do not feel anything at all.
I am not used to being loved,
And sometimes I still catch myself feeling sad at things that do not matter anymore.
I abandoned logic to maintain sanity,

You were not making any sense,

yet I was trying to understand.

But I,

I have always wanted you,

I shared my deepest thoughts with you at 3 in the morning,

you were the only person to completely understand me,

to accept my flaws as they were,

to love me,

You gave me hope that I can be loved,

You teached me a lot,

But as soon as I started to feel something for you,

you said it was time for you to leave.

You said you knew this day will come eventually,

but you didn't want to believe it.

And now that day is here,

you have to go.

And I am too angry to give you the goodbye hug you're asking for,

because it's too painful to let go,

I see the tears pouring down from these hazel eyes and I know,

I know that I am being harsh,

but you did this to us,

you did this to yourself.

And now,

you have to leave.

The most painful goodbyes are the ones that are never said and never explained,

I can't even explain how I feel anymore,

My thoughts are so messed up in my head,

In my heart I love you all the time.

And I sit alone and watch the clock,

trying to collect my thoughts,

yet all I think about is you.

In those days that I live through,

I can't control what stays and what fades away,

And I never have the things to say,

to make it all just go away,

to make it all disappear.

You are always there,

in every person I meet,

in every conversation I have,

you are in it somehow,

Maybe because we talked about all the subjects this world has to offer,

so whenever one of these topics is talked about,

I remember you,

and your opinion in that matter,

and I smile.

I guess at one point of our lives we would realize that we were perfect for each other,

we would realize that we should have fought for this.

Yet,

nothing of all that matters now.

And I am here now,

It's 11 pm,

sitting on a burnt-brown wooden disk,

A cigar in my hand,

some Jazz music playing in the background,

as I try to compile a list of adjectives to describe you,

I still fail every time to properly describe your genuine beauty,

and I tear those pages apart,

I close my eyes,

And I wonder,

Maybe sometimes I cross your mind as you cross mine.

Butterfly

It's your birthday,
Please accept my apologies,
I couldn't make it this year.
I..
I have been too busy looking after myself,
I forgot how much you mean to me,
Until it was too late.
And now,
I live in another dimension,
Walking down those gloomy corridors,
An air of melancholy filled those vacant halls,
A state of vacivity,
Occupied with thick layers of dust over the edges of these obsidian windows.
It's all black and white,
Charcoal and Ivory,
An alluring mixture creating beautifully irregular streaks through the marble of our bedroom floor.
We emotionally manipulated each other until we thought it was love,
And at that point it was too late to put an end to this constant illusion,
And return to a sense of tranquility.
And now I..
I am living in a persistent state of delirium,
You intoxicated me,
It was just like you made me love you by some force,
And your head was occupied with alarming questions,
While mine was preoccupied with deranged thoughts.
I was not enough.
You taught me how to be alone,
And I have learned my lesson in your absence.
But each night,
Everything cuts a little deeper,
And all those words we have said to each other haunt me,
A transient state of veracity,
Does it count if you were happy in a dream,
Or am I in love with impossibility?
You were always a difficult person to understand but never to love,
And no one said that you must stop loving someone once they leave,
You left me,
Like there was no reason to stay,
And I loved you even more.
And I...
I have found comfort in sorrow,
I couldn't find anything to alleviate this pain,
Nothing to soothe my nerves,
I will never be able to find myself,
As long as I am lost in you.
And each year,
Between the frost of the winter,
And the vernal sunshine,
Comes one day of particular significance,
This time last year we were sitting under the shade of that oak tree,
We used to call it our spot,
It was where we used to escape from our stubborn parents and have a moment for ourselves,
Our sweet escape.
I was in the middle of an ocean,
An ocean of doubts, flaws and imperfections,
Then you came along,
And all of a sudden I knew how to swim,
But then you left,
And I realized you have been holding me the whole time,
No I am six feet under,
Covered in guilt and self neglect,
Erased,
But I will always remember this special day,
And I am sorry I couldn't be where you currently are,
And I apologize for the long message,
I think..
All I wanted to say is that,
On your special day,
I hope this wonderful day will fill up your heart with blessings.
I think about this every year,
So I pick up a pen,
And I write,
'Happy Birthday,
I love you'.
And I place this letter gently above its similar but older messages,
In a dusty hazel brown box I have made of perfectly cut pieces of that oak tree,
Covered in excelsior,
Rested under my bed,
It is where my dreams come to life,
Where my memories set,
It is where you are,
It is where we left.
So..
I think..
I think It won't be any different this year,
Happy Birthday...
I love you.

Emerald

First page,

With a black pen in my hand,

I write some words down clumsily,

The words were soft and mellow,

And then turned into anger.

I couldn't stop,

Thought after thought,

I constantly felt that I am missing something,

But I never knew exactly out what it is.

A set of paints,

A certain pallette of colors,

All too poor,

To create the perfect picture of what was in my mind.

My body is a garden,

From bone and up,

Full of beauty and grace,

Yet so plain,

Compared to the memories,

I have sworn to never speak of again.

I am aware that,

I am less than what people prefer me to be,

But most people are unaware that,

I am so much more than what they see.

I have learned more about myself in solitude,

I have both driven myself crazy and found peace,

I love who I have been,

But I really love who I am becoming.

I no longer search,

The things that are meant for me will always flow to me,

"You attract what you are ready for",

I will just let things play out,

What's supposed to happen eventually will.

I am human,

I make mistakes,

I have weaknesses,

Study me as much as you like,

You will never understand me completely,

I differ in a hundred ways from what you see me to be,

I have chosen to be in a place where you can't see me.

I am not used to be loved,

I do not know what to do,

I feel a lot,

Like I ought to be feeling something I shouldn't,

I have always loved too much,

or not enough,

To love me is to love a haunted house.

It seemed that you knew me,

Like you understood anything that I have told you,

But the more we spoke,

The more I realized,

How different we were,

Or maybe I just thought you were different,

Silly me.

I have spent my life learning to feel less,

Learning not to hold onto something,

That I would expect nothing at all.

I regret that it takes a life to understand love,

I want to be loved and left alone.

I don't think that people understand the fact that life doesn't make sense,

I think it haunts people,

The fact that they can never figure things out.

An aeviternal situation,

A dilemma,

A puzzle missing out vital pieces,

A mesmerizing fuliginous painting,

A delusion,

Packed thoughts one over another,

Yet,

It could never sharpen the image I had in my mind.

A thought of idle desire,

A reverie,

I cannot know who I am,

Because I do not know which part of me is not me.

My mind is occupied by tenuous spiral stairs,

They lead to indistinct areas of my dispersed character,

It is where I have hidden all my secrets,

It is where I belong.

It has always been this way,

After I opened myself to someone,

I needed some time,

to restore my sense of privacy,

I have found it necessary to remain silent,

To not let anyone in.

I have found peace in writing some of what is going inside of me,

I have locked myself in an oblivion,

Going through the same emotions,

Going through us.

I take another sip of my coffee which turned cold,

And I sigh,

As I write the last page,

Last page,

I feel like I am missing something,

But I never know exactly out what it is.

House of Balloons

I encounter millions of bodies in my life,

Of these millions,

I may desire hundreds,

But of these hundreds,

I love only one,

I spend most nights at home falling in love with the idea of you,

I hope you won't be temporary,

I never expected you,

Sometimes people sneak up on you,

And suddenly,

You don't know how you ever lived without them,

We had everything to say to each other,

But no ways to say it,

You're within me;

In every thought,

In every word,

In every act,

We are connected,

And I like you;

Your eyes are full of language,

Tell me every terrible thing you have done,

And let me love you anyway,

But I..

I am a collection of dismantled almosts,

And..

That's how it is when a person develops an attraction towards someone,

You are nowhere,

But suddenly you are everywhere,

Whether I want you to be or not,

And I don't know,

You have lived on broken hearts all your life,

And I wonder,

If you notice me at all,

Or If the thought of us comes up to your mind as it does to mine,

It seems that,

The more time and distance you put in between us,

The larger you grow in my heart,

And I yearn for the day that I wake up next to you,

Have coffee in the morning as we discuss our plans together,

And wander through the city with your hand in mine,

I want love around me and in me at all times,

I...

I would choose five minutes with you,

Over a lifetime with anyone else,

I wonder how many people do not get the one they want,

But end up with the one they're supposed to be with,

And I..

I've learned to cope by spilling these words on paper,

Hoping one day,

Somewhere on the page,

Among these irrational thoughts and feelings,

We would be together,

But I..

I still search for you between all these crowds,

On all these roads and wishing stars,

Neither one of us knows what might happen tomorrow,

Yet we move forwards,

Carrying blind hopes in these tormented hearts of ours,

A vain attempt to make us feel better,

But there's something about you,

You always wore black,

But you have the most colorful mind,

You were most beautiful,

Whenever you are most comfortable,

Whenever you are most,

You,

And sometimes,

I have kept my feelings to myself,

Because I just couldn't find the language to describe them in,

And I have loved you with all my damaged heart,

But you..

You were so distant,

Sometimes I forgot you were there at all,

And I am on the outside,

Looking at you,

And a man so painfully in love,

Is capable of self-torture beyond belief,

Love is an untamed force,

It cannot be controlled,

And I...

I keep finding myself in the wrong story,

I am writing a chapter I would never read out loud,

I don't even fit here,

So why go and pretend like I do?

Let it hurt,

Let it bleed,

Let it heal,

And let it go,

And I hope...

I hope you will find someone who would know how to love you when you are sad,

When you have had enough of everyone around,

I hope he knows how to comfort you,

And make you feel better,

When all the world have stood against you,

I wish he will always be by your side,

And I hope...

I hope he loves you like I do,

I sigh..

And I...

I wish you remember me,

As if you remember me,

Then I do not care if everyone else forgets,

I...

I would have offered you the world,

But you said that you had your own,

And I..

I still think about you,

But I don't say it anymore.

Keith

I was 15 years old... I still remember these empty streets where I used to drive my father's car along, I did not have a driving license then, but the thrill of the experience was more satisfying than whatever trouble I would have gotten into, I remember I used to count the street lights so that I do not drive to a point that I cannot find the way home from, I knew where all the street signs were. I had no friends, but I enjoyed my own company. I remember how the loud sound of the truck's diesel engine would always intervene with the beauty of music I have constantly played. I never had a destination to go, I only had one thing in my mind, to run away from where I was, to be at somewhere new. Sometimes I used to take a wrong turn on purpose in an attempt to find a place no one else knew, I used to lie to my father so I can have his truck and go on a mission of endless exploration.

I haven’t forgotten, I still remember all the little things, I used to stare at the 'big yellow sun' setting over the crystal clear lake slowly, it was such a beautiful scene to watch, I remember all the times I sat down by that lake, thinking about all the things I wanted to become, all the dreams I wanted to achieve –and I still haven't. I used to gather all the different types of rocks, I arranged them in circles and created imaginary scenarios and stories, I knew it did not make sense but it was a way of me to communicate, they were the closest I had to friends...

I had this habit, I collected the tree leaves in Autumn and I put them in a small agenda my father gave me, I never knew why I actually did that, I have never been enrolled in a school, as we didn't have one, I had a lot of time to think about all the different things this life has to offer, I thought I can figure out everything on my own, I thought I was different than other boys in my town; It was a small land, I knew everyone and everyone knew me. Everyone spent most of their nights at a small pub where my uncle used to work, I spent some time there working in the kitchen; washing the beer pitchers and cocktail glasses, not really the type of life I have been looking forwards to, I did not want to grow up here and become just like everybody else, I wanted to achieve something for myself, my family and my town; Something everyone would have been proud of, something different, but most importantly, I did not want to stay here, I had this constant urge to escape, I felt like I have been locked in forever…

I am a grown man now, I am no longer that clumsy shy boy, a part of me still is, but I would like to believe that I have changed, but deep inside I know I have not, I moved out of my town even though everyone back home wanted me to stay, I just needed to go through new experiences, I convinced myself that I was in a place where I cannot make a progress, I decided to move out, to carve a new path for myself. I moved to the city, there aren't any lakes here or long country lanes, it’s different here, I have always heard people saying that there's no place like home but I have never believed it, until I realized that it's not about the land itself, it's the people that make a place more special, and I admit, I miss my family, I miss my little humble town, these people raised me and I have this constant thought of going back home...

I heard stories of other boys of my same age and where they are now, one is barely getting by, one is already on the second wife and one is still working at his father's store. I am not sure if where I stand is better than them or worse, I am not sure if this is what I have been looking forward to, I am discovering something new every single day, I am discovering myself. I took a different path than everyone else, I currently own a small bakery in the city, it does not really yield a lot of money, but I have my clients and I am pleased with what I do...

I still drive my father's yellow Ford truck that I inherited after he passed away a year after I moved out – it was the worst time of my life, I have managed to do some repairs to the engine and it still runs like a brand-new vehicle. Sometimes, I still go on small drives down the busy city streets looking for somewhere calm and quiet, looking for somewhere where I can find some peace of mind…

I ignite the engine of my father’s truck, driving through these boring streets, they all look the same. I have been driving for an hour now, it’s dark outside now, I do not know where I am now, I think I took a wrong turn, I do not know anymore, I decide to stop at the side of the road for few minutes, I lay my fatigued body horizontally over the torn leather seats of the truck and I close my eyes in an attempt to rest my intoxicated body...

I wake up to the sound of a bird chirping by the windshield, the sun has already risen, it’s the end of the Winter season, I am tired, it's Sunday, I have to make it back to the city tonight so I can open my shop tomorrow, it's the start of a new semester for the students now, the employees are coming back from their vacations now too, it's a new year already, it has been 10 years since I have last visited my old town. I sigh, I never thought that I would last this long, I wonder who are still there and who have already passed away, I do not really believe I have properly settled here in the city, there has always been something that is missing, I think I am naturally connected to my roots, to where I came from, it's who I am....

It has been a ride, ups and downs, straight roads and curvy turns, brown dried maple leaves and small little rocks. I think I have the better cut now, but honestly, it was all about those details that actually add value to your life, those little things. I think I do not belong here, I wonder if I ever will... So here I am, but what's the rush? I am here in a yellow truck, a long road ahead of me and nothing but opportunities.

Nimbus

I am made of flaws, layers of insecurities weaved together with threads of fear, embedded on a weak fragile heart, I am lost in the realm I've created, I am a king of my own imaginary domain, I don't have anybody, but I never needed any companions, I perfectly crafted my territory that no one can reach up to me, no one has the chance of triumphing over me, I am on top, but still I am endeavoring to be more than what I am today, I am fearless, I am the one everyone used to look up to as a role model, I was chosen, I was the one that is supposed to set everyone free, but I struggle with decisions, I can't make up my mind, I cannot trust my clueless empty heart, and my brain is so fucked up it wouldn't stop thinking of every single possible and impossible circumstances, it is an ordeal, a dilemma of its own.
But the life I am living is indubitably deranged, I have lost any means of harmony, it is baffling mystery to everyone that knows me, but somehow, it is a particularly piquant story, an intriguing puzzle, I cannot be solved, ergo I am trapped in a sophisticated web of the lies I keep telling, forsooth I am a sadist, at least that's what I was made to believe, but that is incogitable for me, my ego will always sugarcoat every little flaw I have, it is fancy and demiurgic, and ornamental withal. I cherish the life I am living; I smell of my own musk and darkness, an alluring mix that makes my blood burn, a pulchritudinous paragon, I am comfortable in the unwanted world I have created, it suits me well.
I loathe most the people on sight, I decided to abstain from involving in their world, I yearn for a glimpse of human connection, yet I am so indulged in an inertia, I drove myself into an oblivion, I try to make my way through a gloomy corridor lit by oil lamps, but soon enough I am dispirited, and I manage to subdue an instinct to escape. It is atrocious; surrendering to what you have become, I pump gobs of heroin through my bruised arm, I put on my headphones and promptly I start dancing in a desultory fashion, a futile attempt to make myself feel a little better, to make me feel like a king again.
Irresponsible actions have garrisoned my kingdom, a vain effort I do every day in an attempt to equilibrate the unsteadiness I am imprisoned in, sometimes I can hear my bones straining from the weight of all the lives that I did not live. And for once, I am afraid; I will never achieve the status I desired, I say that as I have another shot of Absinthe; The ambrosia that is constantly pushing me into different levels of amnesia, a constant urge to keep going into divergent measures of delirium, an unmatched aeipathy.
My life is going to end and so will yours, I will be looking for the Elysium within the labyrinth of my hallucinations, I sing myself another lullaby as I lie on the cold marble floor gazing into the crystal chandelier above me, the clear crystal slowly turns into an obsidian that creates a perfect replica of the golden chandelier, I am an aesthete living in an aphotic place, the sole method of speaking I know is breviloquence as I am too tired of trying to illustrate what I am going through to everyone else, I am innocent, at least that is what I try to constantly believe, I tend to regularly wear an immaculate white suit to contrast the darkness inside me, I have a small spot in front of my home that is solely planted with vivid incarnadine roses that I perfectly aligned in a mesmerizing constellation, I capture a few crimson petals every week to fit perfectly in the margin of my notebook, a memento in a miscellany I have collected.
I am in constant search for a state of tranquility, it feels like all the happiness I can have is transient, a brief glimpse of hope making its way through my vacuity, the other day I bought a turquoise rug to match with the white velvety texture of the sofa I am lying on, I sit down and I roll another cigarette and I exhale clouds of grey smoke to match the grey zone I am living in; A continuous battle for my sanity, I walk over to an old dusty wooden turntable that I have forgotten that I had, I look through a tall column of stacked vinyl records for vast artists from the last millennium, I used to indulge in these smoothly orchestrated pieces of art, I place a Pink Floyd record on the platter and turn the switch on, as the old worn-out motor driving the platter starts to engage, I dance ecstatically in an evanescent state of euphoria, with trembling steps and a cigarette in hand I walk towards the veranda, I rest the soles of my guilt-stained hands on the rusty rails that surround the veranda neatly, I take a look at the fuliginous sky around me, the crumbled golden maple tree leaves as they slowly fall into the wet muddy ground, I have always found comfort in Autumn; its resplendent colors always managed to lighten up my soul.
A zephyr of wind conveys coldness to my bruised weak chest, I shiver briskly, I make my way swerving back inside, I consume another bottle of  intoxicating drink as I try to soothe myself from the persistent agony I am in, I scream tumultuously, I know I am stuck in a loop, a lonely miserable world that I chose to build deliberately with my own helpless hands, an imaginary domain which I made myself a king on, it has one exit, a long corridor lit by oil lamps leading to an asylum, I smile carelessly and close those sleep deprived eyes as I lie restfully on the dusty burnt brown parquet.

Monday

In a windy cold Autumn day, you open your eyes slowly and carefully as the sun emits yellow golden rays that are too bright for those sleepy little eyes of yours, it starts off with the switch of the coffeemaker as it prepares you the sweetest cup of daily morning motivation that you thrive for every single day, you walk unsteadily with hesitant steps towards the kitchen and you hold on your coffee with trembling uncertain hands, you stop for a moment and look through your window to enjoy the beauty of the clouds through Autumn and the way the dry yellow crumbled leaves fall down slowly and hit the ground, you realize that no matter how high you are, you are going to hit a low one day.
You soon manage to push the ugly thoughts away, you were pale pink lipstick and apply some makeup over those full cheeks of yours, you've decided to go with dark orange powder to match the gloominess of Autumn, you sigh.. you have to go through another day at your job, another day of the hell you chose with your own hands, sometimes, you just want to quit, sometimes, you just want to go somewhere far away where no one recognizes you, it feels sort of that you are trapped in someone else's life; grow up, go to school, get a job, get married and raise your children, but through all of that, you realize that you never actually did any of those things because you wanted to, you were obliged to follow the system; A system you never liked, a carefully picked set of rules and orders that were forced on you and everyone around you, you are just like anybody right?, there's nothing special about you.
You get into your car heading towards your workplace, you've got yourself pretty much covered; A hot cup of coffee in the cup holder besides you, a Taylor Swift's CD playing through the dust-covered speakers of your car that you barely take care of and you roll down your window and light up a cigarette in an attempt to forget about the traffic you are stuck in, the smoke of the cigarette is slowly sneaking through the little gap of the window and is slowly taking your life away. And about time.. you have finally reached your workplace, the place you hate more than anything else, you are making your way through the tight corridors as you have arrived late.. again, you stand in front of your strict boss trying to find a way to convince him that you were late due to the traffic and that it was unintentional, you lie, once again, but you've been used to it, it became something natural for you, it's 10 minutes past 8 am, you sit behind your desk, turn on your computer and pray that the hour turns 4 pm in a blink of an eye.
It is 4 pm, finally, you are so thrilled that this day is over, but you are going to go through the same traffic again, anyway, it doesn't matter, you've finished another day of this dreadful October, on the way home you take a visit to a fast food drive-thru that you became very familiar of, you've made it home at last, you drop your leather expensive designer bag on the floor as it is not worth a cent, take off your heels and throw yourself on your unmade bed, you close your eyes and fall asleep to the sound of rain pouring heavily outside, at the end of the day, you don't know what you want, you don't know what you want to be, you're just like anyone else, lost and insecure.